Reality Is Bleeding
by BKL8008
Summary: Sequel to "Dust",T 18.Albus S. Potter thinks he's going mad once he arrives at Hogwarts & is Sorted.Reality seems to change around him,but only Albus sees it happening.One minute,his best friend is his worst enemy,and Albus isn't even sure of his House.
1. Chapter 1 Reunion

**Reality Is Bleeding **

**(A sequel to the one-shot "Dust")**

**I**

**Reunion**

With a great blast of steam from the engine, and an even greater blast of its whistle, the Hogwarts Express pulled out of Kings Cross just as it did every September 1st.

"'bye, Albie, 'bye James," little Lily Potter waved sadly at the caboose.

"'bye, Rosie," Hugo Weasley mumbled, sniffling once, then wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Two years, kids," Ron reminded them, as the billowing steam that had obscured the Platform upon their arrival cleared off in the wake of the train.

"Well, at least now we can see to get around," Hermione Weasley complained to her husband, "You'd think they'd install an exhaust fan?

"You'd think," Ginny Potter agreed, as the two couples gathered up their one remaining child each and turned towards the exit. Teddy Lupin sighed heavily.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find some excuse to visit Victoire," Hermione harassed him. Teddy's hair turned brilliant pink, as did his face.

"Erm, if you'll excuse me?" Teddy asked, "I really should go and keep an eye on, uhm, that one case?" He offered lamely, which made Harry laugh. Teddy then took his leave of them.

"Peace and quiet, at last," Harry smiled, looking all around the Platform, and momentarily losing himself in nostalgia. It didn't seem that long ago that he'd come with Andromeda Tonks to help send Teddy off to Hogwarts.

Harry then remembered how the Muggle station attendant had rebuked him for trying to be cute by asking for Platform 9 ¾, and how, by only the wildest stroke of luck, he'd overheard Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, complaining, "...packed with Muggles...," thus tipping Harry off to the fact that they were surely Wizards who might help him find the platform.

He remembered sharing a compartment with Ron, and how they'd gone overboard on candy during the trip. Harry also recalled how good it had felt to not only have money with which to buy candy, but also to have someone there with him to share in it. He remembered a panicked Neville Longbottom, and a very brusque and bossy Hermione Granger in search of Trevor the toad. He smiled as he then looked at Ron, who, impossibly, had dirt on the side of his nose again. Harry pointed this out, Ron wiped it away, and they all laughed.

Harry then remembered how he'd spurned Draco Malfoy's offer of friendship, and how that one simple act had had such repercussions - for both Draco and Ron.

"It's funny," Ron mused, as they were heading for the exit, "How things turn out, isn't it? I mean, remember when we ran into Malfoy on the train? How he wanted to meet you, and how you refused to shake his hand?"

Harry sighed and nodded. "I was just thinking of that."

"I've often wondered just how things might have turned out, if he hadn't been so belittling to you," Harry replied, "Or if he hadn't been so nasty at Madame Malkin's when Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley for the first time. Did I ever tell you that Draco was the first Wizarding child I ever met? I wanted so badly to be friends with him, until he started all that hateful talk."

"Innumerable times, Harry," Hermione smiled, "Usually when you were in a rage about something he'd done, too." Hermione then gave Ron 'the look'. "And _you_!" She informed him, "Telling Rose to make sure and beat Scorpius at everything, Ronald? What are you trying to do, make them hate each other already?"

"Well, if that Scorpius kid is _anything _like his father," Ron theorized, "Because he certainly _looks_ enough like him! For a minute there, I thought it was 'Mini-Draco' or something, you know?"

Harry had to agree with that. The resemblance that Scorpius bore to Draco was uncanny, but when Harry thought about it, he had to admit that it was no stranger than the resemblance that Albus bore to himself. "Our sons are not us," Harry stated, sneaking Hugo a wink, "Besides, it's not like Albus and Scorpius don't know one another."

"That ice cream in Diagon Alley was _years_ ago, Harry," Hermione reminded him, "And they've not seen one another in as many. Being quill-pals isn't the same thing."

Ron shook his head. "You should have explained to him about the Sorting, I mean, better, Harry. It's gonna really hurt Albie's feelings when the Hat puts him in Gryffindor, and his little quill-pal in Slytherin. It'll tear 'em apart, as if ol' Malfoy just up and vanishing with his family didn't already do that," Ron stated.

"Harry," Ginny had to agree, "I don't often admit it, but Ronald's making perfect sense." Ron winced. "They might have got on well when they were like six years old, but time's passed. And you know that a friendship like that certainly won't survive the Sorting."

Hermione laid a hand on Harry's arm as they neared the exit. "Besides, we didn't even know what Scorpius Malfoy looked like until now. Don't you find it odd that Draco would just up and vanish like that? Did he even think of how it would make the boys feel? No," Hermione went on, as she began to sink into her element, "Typical Slytherin mindset - me and mine come first, and everyone else be damned. You just wait, Harry, trust me, you'll get a letter first thing tomorrow morning from Albus, telling you how he got Sorted to Gryffindor, and how his old friend went into Slytherin and abandoned him."

Hermione was so into her speech that she didn't notice the blond man in black sitting on the bench near the exit. She also didn't notice the pretty blonde lady who was imploring him to get up and go.

But the man seemed to be ignoring her. He just sat, staring at the vanishing point on the horizon where the train had long since disappeared. He seemed lost in thought, even unwell, when the Trio paused as he finally said something.

"I daresay you're wrong, again, Granger - Mrs. Weasley, I mean," Draco Malfoy said to the horizon. And while he didn't look at them, his tone made it clear that he wanted them to hear him.

"You must be the Potters and Weasleys," Astoria Malfoy quickly introduced herself. "Draco's told me so much about you?"

Ron blinked. "I'm sure he _has_?" Ron fumbled.

"_Some_ of it was even good, too," Draco muttered, his colorless eyes never moving from the horizon. "You know," he then said, finally looking at Harry, "I don't think I ever thanked you three for saving my life that one night. Thank you," He added plainly.

"You're welcome," Harry replied, not sure of what to say as he gave Astoria an inquiring look.

"Let's go, Darling. Scorpy will be fine, I'm sure. We'll hear from him tomorrow, if not in the middle of the night, you know?" She then turned to the two couples, who were by this time, trying to manage their fidgeting children.

"Let's go!" Hugo whined.

"I so wanted to go," Lily said in a way unfitting a nine-year-old. "I hate to have to wait!"

"Scorpy wasn't looking forward to it at all," Draco then put in, as he slowly got up, almost as if unfolding himself, and straightened his coat with a hard tug. "It won't be easy for him," he told his wife.

"I know, Darling," she agreed, making the Potters and Weasleys wonder what they were talking about.

"I'm glad he got to be friends with Albus when they were little, even if it was for only a short time," Draco then said to Harry, finally looking him in the eye since they'd all spotted him in the clouds of smoke and steam.

"Our sons are not _us_," Harry said with a curt nod.

Then Draco Malfoy slowly, reluctantly, extended his hand.

And several decades too late, perhaps, Harry accepted it.

"It's a shame that only _I_ remember...," Draco began, releasing Harry's hand and turning to go. "Never mind," he then decided. "Sometimes I wonder if I only imagined it all. It's just insane, really..." his voice faded off as he walked way, mumbling to himself.

"I...I'm sorry," Astoria offered, "He gets like this sometimes," she explained, as she took off after her husband.

"And here I thought _we_ were all misty about sending the kids off?" Ron mused.

*********

"Honestly, you'd think they'd add another car," Rose Weasley was complaining, as she and her cousin Albus Potter lugged their trunks and owls down the aisle in search of a compartment with room for two more.

Actually, they'd already passed up a couple. But Rose had found fault with the occupants on sight, Albus knew. After all, Rose was very good at finding faults, and he knew that too. He also knew better than to start an argument with her when she was convinced that she was right, which was all of the time, really. Albus just wished she'd pick one, as he was getting tired of all the heads peeking out to stare at them and the whispers of "Harry Potter's other kid," and "Looks just like him!"

"Did you see that thuggish lot in the last one?" Rose asked, "Really! That one must have gorillas in his family tree!"

Albus just nodded. He'd thought about sitting with his brother James and his friends and cousins, but he'd thought better of it. Albus knew from experience that all he'd get from James would be a laughing greeting of "Go way, Squirt!"

"What about this one?" Albus asked, spying a compartment near the end of the very last car. The door was open, and it appeared to be deserted.

"Oh, well done, Albie!" Rose congratulated him, as she pushed her trunk inside and reached for the two owl cages. She'd just stashed them on the overhead shelf when she gasped. "OH! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there, Mr. ahhh ... oh dear!" She suddenly choked.

Albus' ears pricked up at once. If Rose had seen something that had made her shut up, it had to be a doozey, Albus knew.

"Everywhere else must be full up," the small boy mumbled, never taking his eyes off of his highly polished black leather shoes. "But you're welcome to stay, if you don't mind what everyone will think, I guess." He then scooted as far back into the corner as he could, behind the door, pressing himself so hard against the wall that he seemed to be trying to pass through it.

Rose took in the slightly pointed face, almost ferret-like, the slicked-back and long, white-blond hair, and the small build. This boy wasn't much larger than her little brother Hugo, but his crystal-blue eyes looked so out of place on his near-perfect face. Rose's glance lingered, their eyes locked for a second, and she found that she really didn't really want to stop looking at this handsome boy - at those eyes that seemed to be saying that they'd seen too much already in his short life.

But the boy looked quickly away.

_Perish the thought_! Rose told herself, _That's...that's_...

**"Scorpius Malfoy?!"** She blurted, finally recognizing him from the Platform.

"Who?!" Albus exclaimed, tossing his own trunk inside and very nearly clobbering his cousin with it. He then opened the trunk as Rose was situating herself on the opposite seat.

Packed on the very top, and carefully wrapped in tissue paper, was a small rectangular box. Albus took it out, opened it, and held up a wallet size silver picture frame.

He looked from the picture to the pale boy, back again, and did this several times. He adjusted his rectangular glasses and blew the stray black hair out of his face. Finally, his green eyes rested upon the shy boy.

"Scorpy!" Albus breathed.

Scorpius Malfoy then looked up, his face a study in uncertainty. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then he looked away again.

"You two _know_ each other?" Rose gasped. "How?"

"H-hello, Albie," Scorpius finally replied, in a voice so soft that they could hardly hear him. "It's been a long time?"

Albus put the picture away, then sat down, looking as if he were about to cry.

Rose didn't understand it at all. From what her father had just told her on the Platform, and from all the stories she'd heard involving the Malfoys, Rose Weasley was convinced that they had just taken up temporary residence with the next worst thing to the Dark Lord himself!

"You two know each other?" She repeated pointedly to Scorpius. "_How_? Uncle Harry didn't even know you, and he knows everybody!"

"You never mentioned me?" Scorpius whispered, daring to glance quickly at them both before turning to stare out the window.

"My dad said your dad wouldn't like it," Albus shook his head. "So I never told a soul. But I never stopped writing," he added quickly, as he closed his trunk again.

"I...I had to," Scorpius admitted. "Daddy said it was too dangerous, after we started traveling. Someone sent him a package, that last year I sent you the Quidditch gloves for Christmas? It had a cursed little statue in it, and it...it...never mind, I'm not supposed to talk about it," Scorpius admitted.

"I brought the gloves," Albus nodded, as Rose looked on in confusion. If there was one thing that Rose Weasley couldn't stand, it was not knowing something.

Albus then dug the gloves out of this trunk and showed them off. Scorpius looked dumbfounded.

Rose was perplexed. She pushed her bushy reddish-brown hair back and snorted. This whole affair was definitely a problem that needed solving, how _her _cousin Albus somehow knew this seemingly notorious Scorpius-person that she was supposed to best at everything at school.

"They grow with the wearer, you know," Scorpius nodded slightly. Then he sighed. Albus jerked his head straighter and blew at his messy black hair again.

"What's wrong? Aren't you glad to see me?" Albus asked. "I thought...?"

"I am," Scorpius then finally smiled, "After the reception I got before I made it all the way back here, though, I was sort of expecting the same thing from you. It's been a long time, you know, and I figured your dad and uncles would talk."

"Would one of you _please _tell me how you two know each other?" Rose huffed.

"Albie?" Scorpius cocked his head at Albus.

"We met up in Diagon Alley when we were like five or six," Albus explained. "Scorpy's dad seemed to already know who I was, and he was very excited to see me. In fact, he was...he was a lot happier back then?"

"Old ghosts, you know," Scorpius nodded. "That's why we disappeared."

"I'm sorry," Albus offered, once again leaving Rose out of whatever it was that was passing between the two boys.

They were such a contrast, Rose thought: One with hair as black as night, the other as white as alabaster. Albus, being so outgoing; Scorpius, so withdrawn. Rose wondered how they could have ever gotten on together.

"But you're both here, now," Rose reminded them, "And we'll all be in the same classes, I'll bet! You can see each other every day!"

That statement only seemed to make Scorpius withdraw even more, though. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, folded his legs up, and looked to be trying to make himself just as small as he could. Rose thought that it wouldn't take much.

"The only reason you say that now is because we haven't been Sorted yet," Scorpius finally answered, after a very long and awkward pause. "Every Malfoy in history, according to Daddy, has been a Slytherin. Mum's a Slytherin, and so was Grandma Black and almost all her family."

"The Blacks did have one Gryffindor in there, you know," She reminded them. "Sirius? Uncle Harry's Godfather?" Albus nodded happily at his old friend.

But Scorpius just sighed again, and it was really an awful sound, Rose thought. What was even more awful, though, was the fact that the sound of it made her want to hug the sad boy, to try and make him feel better. She didn't understand it at all, other than knowing that a hug always seemed to work for her when she felt bad.

_Rose, you cannot hug this person...this...this _Malfoy_!_ She berated herself. _Dad would just croak!_

But the more she looked at him, the more she could see that Scorpius Malfoy was suffering. She had to wonder if he were going to tell them why. And why had Albus kept his brief childhood friendship with him a secret, even from her?! Weren't they each other's confidant, each other's partners in crime - as their parents referred to them? None of this was making any sense, which was making Rose very irritable.

Albus picked up on this at once as Rose began to twirl a strand of her bushy red hair. It was the danger signal that he knew too well.

"Well, our whole family has been in Gryffindor," Albus said, "Haven't they, Rosie?"

"Oh yes," Rose agreed happily, immediately launching into a dissertation that was only interrupted by the Witch with the snack trolley.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" She asked happily, glancing into the compartment and failing to notice Scorpius until he spoke up.

"Give us three of everything, please," Scorpius asked politely, almost bashfully, as he handed her a bunch of coins.

"Mmmmm," the Witch simply replied, as she waved her wand and filled his order. She then headed up the corridor, mumbling something about buying friends.

"See what I mean?" Scorpius asked.

"How _rude_!" Rose exclaimed.

"Why did she _do_ that?" Albus wondered.

"She recognized me," Scorpius shrugged. "I'm used to it, though. That's why you found me back here, near all the stock and baggage. Nobody wanted to be seen in the company of a Malfoy, you know."

"But why?" Rose asked, visibly upset by how the trolley-Witch had treated Scorpius. "What did _you_ ever do to anyone?"

"Apparently, I was born," Scorpius shook his head in resignation. "It all started when I enrolled in elementary school, you know. You and Albus were the lucky ones, going to a Muggle school." Scorpius then unwrapped a chocolate frog, expertly preventing it from jumping away. He then looked at the card. "Sometimes I wish I'd been born a Squib, then I could have been foisted off on some Muggles and not had to deal with any of it." He then dropped the card on the floor.

Albus picked it up.

The Wizard on the card didn't look very happy about being dropped, either, as Albus brushed the dust off of him. He had penetrating black eyes that seemed to see right through Albus, and long black hair that looked a bit greasy. Albus knew him at once - his namesake. Or rather, one of them:

"Severus Snape," he nodded, smiling. "Dad speaks very highly of him, you know. That's my middle name, you know?"

On the card, Severus Snape rolled his eyes and stalked out of the frame.

"What's yours then?" Rose asked Scorpius.

"Hyperion," Scorpius replied.

"Well, _that _sounds nice and _dark_," Rose rolled her eyes. "You two need aliases, is what I think. I'll try and think up some for you, shall I? Albie & Scorpy just don't sound right for here."

"Knock yourself out, Rosie," Albus conceded. After all, he'd learned better than to argue with Rose over the past eleven years. Rose was infinitely smarter than he was, although Albus always prided himself on his marks; he was certainly not dim. He just wasn't as quick as Rose.

He didn't think anyone was.

"Let's just drop it, shall we?" Scorpius asked, "Enjoy it while we can? I mean, the Sorting's going to blow it all to bits for us, anyway." He looked out the window again, absently reaching into his Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. Albus made to stop him when he recognized a yellowish-gray one, but too late - Scorpius bit into it.

_Vomit-flavored_, Albus winced, but Scorpius didn't even blink.

"You'll both go to Gryffindor, I'll go to Slytherin, and this brief little reunion will be done for good, Albie," Scorpius warned him.

"It must have been good, once," Rose said wistfully, "Because no one calls him 'Albie' but for family."

"Only my folks call me 'Scorpy'," Scorpius nodded back. "Licorice Wand?" He held out a box, trying to change the subject.

"Ehhh, the brain over there will probably sort into Ravenclaw," Albus offered, trading a Licorice Wand for Peppermint Humbug.

"Ravenclaw would be perfectly acceptable," Rose replied haughtily. "Mum and Dad said even Hufflepuff would be fine, but that Gran and Grandpa Weasley would be upset if I didn't make Gryffindor."

"J-James was teasing me about...about being in S-Slytherin," Albus finally said it, and finding out that saying it to the two of them made it sound not so bad. "But Dad said he'd be proud of me, no matter which House I get into. Stupid prat," Albus added.

"He means James, his older brother, of course," Rose put in, as Scorpius just gaped at his old friend.

"Oh!" Scorpius realized.

"Yeah, James kept telling me my initials, A.S.P., spell out 'asp', a snake, and that's a sure sign I'm Slytherin material," Albus explained. "But Dad said he had to ask the Hat to _not_ put him there, can you imagine?" Albus added quickly.

"Sometimes I wish I'd had a brother," Scorpius mused, popping a Drooble's bubble all over his face.

"You can have James, free," Albus shook his head. "But you know," he reconsidered, "I guess he's not so bad? Dad just said he likes to have a good time?"

As if on queue, James Potter then stuck his auburn head in the door. "There you are, Squirt!" He yelled at Albus. "I thought you'd fell out the back or something! Hey, Rosie," he added.

"It's 'Rose', if you _don't_ mind, Jimmy-boy," Rose glared at him, affecting a convincing Irish brogue.

James seemed to stand down at once. Albus wasn't the only one who'd learned early on not to tangle with cousin Rose and her temper!

"Didja find 'em yet, me Jimmie-boy?" Another boy's voice called out, and in the same Irish brogue. Rose looked rather smug about the whole thing. Scorpius snickered, the first sign of mirth he'd shown the whole time.

"Yeah, Sean, I did! In here," James replied, right about the time that Scorpius snickered too. James noticed him, and his eyes went wide. "Are you that _Malfoy_ kid?" James then asked.

"See what I mean?" Scorpius held out his hands. "That would be me, yes, Mr. Jimmie-boy - Scorpius Malfoy, Dark Wizard Extraordinaire, and very probably future Dark Lord. Pleased to meet you," he added sarcastically.

"I don't want you two hangin' 'round him," James pointed his finger at Albus and Rose, "_I_ heard all about _him_ from that Goyle-brute down a few cars! If Dad hadn't warned me..."

"Then I'd suggest you heed it," Rose interrupted him, "Because I'm finding young Master Malfoy more and more interesting by the minute. Aren't you, Albus?"

"Move, now!" James ordered them.

"Make me!" Albus challenged him. "'sides, everywhere else is full up!"

"I'm writing Dad and Uncle Ron!" James threatened them, as he stormed off with his Irish friend and a few other boys Rose didn't know.

"Well, that's got rid of _him_," Rose observed haughtily.

"For now," Albus groaned.

"You didn't tell your own brother about me?" Scorpius asked, confused.

Albus shook his head.

"Thanks, I think," Scorpius then grinned again, but only with the left side of his face. It was something between a smile and a smirk.

"Ignore him, he's just being James," Rose advised, glancing out the window. "I'd say we have some time before we arrive, so let's make use of it, shall we?" She asked, pulling out **The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1**.

"Are we allowed to do magic in here?" Albus asked, nervously pulling out his wand. Albus' wand, everyone in the family knew, was prone to random outbursts of unexpected magic whenever he got nervous with it - which was most of the time.

Sure enough, he promptly lit the hem of Scorpius' robe on fire!

"Aquamenti!" Rose yelled, promptly dousing Scorpius in cold water. Scorpius didn't look impressed at all.

"Thanks awfully," he drawled, as he drew his own wand and dried himself out. "One doesn't grow up moving all over the world and hiding from people who want to kill you, without learning a few spells," Scorpius added, "And that _was_ genuine Tibetan silk, I'll have you know!"

Rose had to laugh. There was just something about the boy that did it to her. "I told them _not_ to let Albie have one of those new overpowered, dual-core wands," Rose said in that tone that so annoyed Albus. He also wished she'd stop calling him 'Albie'. Having a childish nickname was the _last _thing he wanted at Hogwarts!

"Well, what's in it, then?" Scorpius asked, actually showing some genuine interest instead of the sense of impending disaster he'd shown so far. "Mine's ironwood and phoenix feather combined with hippogriff tail hair?"

"Holly, like my dad's," Albus said proudly, but with a look of rapt surprise on his face, "And it's got a hippogriff and phoenix _feather_ at the core!"

"Oh, Merlin save us," Rose groaned. "Am I the only one with a normal wand?"

"Define 'normal', Miss," Scorpius threw back at her, and for the first time, all three of them laughed aloud together.

"Let's enjoy it while we can," Scorpius suggested, and the three of them did that.

They were practicing some of the elementary spells from their book when the door slid open to reveal some rather unsavory looking Second Years and a few frightened First Years.

"Potter said he was back here," a large and obnoxious looking Second Year boy announced to the gang of them.

"Goyle," Scorpius rolled his eyes, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Well, how's about some of that candy, for starters? Consider it health insurance?" Goyle snickered, reaching for the pile of sweets.

He drew his hand back with a startled yelp, though, as Rose hit him with a Stinging Hex. Goyle's hand began to swell at once. "Why you little..." he began. "Who do you think you are, girl?!"

"Rose _Weasley_," Rose informed him bluntly, leveling her wand at him. "Fear the name. There's about a million of us, you know, and we're all nasty tempered! In fact, I think one of us might even be Head Girl?"

Albus heard the name 'Victoire' mentioned by someone in the gang, and that seemed to shut the boys up almost at once.

"Actually, we just wanted to see what you looked like these days, Shrimp," Goyle snorted at Scorpius. "You remember him, don't you, Nott? Before his daddy ran off and went into hiding?"

"Thomas," Scorpius said coolly, "Head been glowing lately?" He sneered at him. "And _where_ did you find that robe? Gladrags having a closeout sale?"

One of the smaller boys blushed red in frustration. "I didn't miss him a bit," Nott sneered back at him. "Besides, least I don't smell like a burnin' trash heap!"

"I, uhhh, sort of set him on fire," Albus offered.

Goyle blinked. "Cool!" He exclaimed. Then his grin faded. "We'll see where you Sort, Malfoy. But given your daddy's record," he elbowed one of his friends, as if to prompt him to laugh, too, "I don't have much hope. Like father, like son, they say?"

And with that, the gang of them headed back up the aisle.

"See what I mean?" Scorpius sighed, as that gloomy pall seemed to fall over him once again. "If you don't mind, I think I'll try for a nap?" He then stretched out on the seat, rolling his cloak into a makeshift pillow.

Rose and Albus exchanged a shrug. For a while, they looked over their schoolbooks. The countryside continued to roll by. The train passed through a few scattered showers, but it seemed to be clearing off as the sun was going down. Fortunately, no one else came by to bother them.

Albus just watched it all going by, remembering a time that seemed like so long ago when they'd sneaked off from their parents one Halloween night and gone back to Malfoy Manor to gorge on Butterbeer and candy and wreck the place by flying their broomsticks in the house.

"I can't believe you met him when you were little," Rose said, as the train began slowing. Albus realized, with just a bit of a start, that he'd gone to sleep too.

"What? Oh, yeah!" Albus nodded, rubbing his eyes. Scorpius was still asleep, he noticed.

"Get your robe on, Albie," Rose told him. "I suspect we'll be arriving soon?"

Rose was right, as usual, Albus found out.

He shook Scorpius awake, and the three of them waited until the cars had cleared before disembarking. They were bringing up the rear of the crowd of nervous First Years, listening to the rumors about having to fight off a Troll or perform some complicated spell to be admitted, but Albus and Rose knew better. Scorpius just looked indifferent as he stared at children being put into small boats by a giant of a man.

"Albie! Rosie!" Rubeus Hagrid bellowed when he saw them.

"'Albie'?" Someone in the crowd snickered, and Albus had the sinking feeling it had been that Nott boy.

Hagrid then grabbed Albus and promptly proceeded to bruise all of his ribs - or so Albus felt.

"Heya, Hagrid!" Albus smiled down at him. Hagrid, after all, was as much a fixture to Grimmauld Place as Teddy Lupin was, and Albus was used to rough handling by now.

"Boats 'er a'fillin' up fast, but I saved one fer yehs," Hagrid nodded, as he placed Rose and Albus in the last empty one. He then turned to see that Scorpius was the last one left on the dock.

Hagrid glanced at the other boats, but of the ones that weren't full, all of the other children just turned away.

"I hate ter do it ter yeh two, but," Hagrid started to say, and it set off something inside of Albus.

WHY was everyone treating Scorpius like he had some sort of terrible disease?

"Scorpius?" Albus said, reaching out his hand.

Rose did the same.

Scorpius looked surprised.

"Are you two sure?" Hagrid asked, "Don't think yer folks'd like you associatin' with..."

"SCORPIUS IS MY FRIEND!" Albus then blurted, standing up and rocking the boat. Hagrid steadied him as several of the other children just watched.

"I'd rather swim, before I sit with THEM!" Scorpius then scowled in seeming disgust. "Who do you think you're talking to, Potter? ME, a _Malfoy_, sit with the spawn of Blood Traitors and Mudbloods?"

Albus just gaped at him in surprise, then a stabbing pain tore through the left side of his head. It was so severe that it doubled him over in the boat.

But as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone.

"Hagrid, please seat Mr. Malfoy in _our_ boat, would you?" Rose said snootily.

"Have it yer own way, then," Hagrid conceded, as he helped Scorpius into the little boat. Even Hagrid, it seemed, knew not to tangle with Rose when she'd made up her mind!

Albus just stared back and forth between Rose and Scorpius.

Had he really just seen and heard what he thought he had? But wasn't Scorpius reaching out his hand to him, as Hagrid lowered the slight boy into the boat? Seemingly of its own accord, Albus' left hand reached out as well.

That hand then clasped Scorpius', and in that slight 'smack' sound, both boys shuddered as if a chill wind had just blown by. Hagrid glanced around, and the boys saw Rose's hair billowing.

It hadn't been their imagination - the wind had picked up, then died just as fast.

"Glad you could make it," Rose smiled at Scorpius.

"Do you two have any idea what you're getting yourselves into, being nice to me?" Scorpius asked, staring down at the black water as the boats began to move. "And why? Why risk it?"

"B-but you jus'...just said all those mean things?" Albus fumbled, but they both looked at him as if he were daft.

"Because I missed you," Albus said sincerely, but Scorpius didn't meet his gaze as Albus decided to not pursue what he thought he'd just seen.

They were halfway across the Black Lake, engulfed in darkness without even a sliver of moon, when Rose gasped.

"Boys, look!" She pointed ahead.

Standing before them was Hogwarts Castle, all aglow in warm lights and shining like a beacon.

Even Scorpius gasped in wonder, but the look didn't last.

"Why bother?" He sighed. "It won't be any different here."

"Scorpius," Albus informed him, "You may not realize it, but we've already left Hagrid scanderized, so let's use it, why don't we?"

"That's 'scandalized,' Albie," Rose corrected him, as she always did, "And I agree! Let's not let something as trivial as a little Sorting wreck this impromptu friendship! I'm rather enjoying it so far," she smiled. "Besides, it'll drive Daddy absolutely mad!"

"Oh," Scorpius nodded nervously, turning to Albus to see the lights of the Castle reflected in his glasses. He remembered his father, Draco, once saying that Albus' father had no sense of fashion when he'd taken the badly nearsighted little boy to their optometrist and gotten him newer, trendier glasses.

It was the glasses that brought something back to Scorpius, and he smiled again.

"I missed you, too, Albie," He finally admitted.

"You have _got_ to have aliases," Rose sighed, as the boats docked and Hagrid continued unloading and ushering them all up the steps and into the foyer.

"Thank you, sir," Scorpius mumbled, as Hagrid hoisted him last out of the boat.

"Erm, yer welcome?" Hagrid managed, looking confused at the straggling trio bringing up the rear of the group.

"Oh, dear," He murmured, as the wind picked up again and he brushed some dust off his hands.


	2. Chapter 2 A Difficult Sorting

**II**

**A Difficult Sorting **

There wasn't much of a wait in the receiving hall as Hagrid got the First Years out of the boats and sent them all scurrying up the steps. Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology and Head of Gryffindor House, was in fact waiting a bit impatiently at the top of the stairs. He was tapping one foot, but he _was_ smiling.

"Bit of a hang up, Hagrid?" He waved.

"Jus' some seatin' arrangements is all, Neville," Hagrid waved back.

Albus, Rose, and Scorpius, who were bringing up the rear of the group at Scorpius' insistence, just looked at him. Albus sneaked a glance at Scorpius, but the defiant and rude persona he'd seen for just an instant at the dock seemed to have been replaced, once again, by the introverted and somewhat depressed one.

"I don't think he likes me," Scorpius said in a very low whisper. "Not surprising, though."

"They just don't know you," Rose assured him.

_An' like _we_ do?_ Albus worried, wondering if he'd been the only one who had seen Scorpius' outburst. Apparently, Rose hadn't, or she'd not be defending him.

"Who _does_?" Someone else muttered, and Albus was sure it had been Nott again.

"Well, come along now, we're running a bit behind," Neville encouraged them, explaining the House and Points systems as they went on in.

Albus was seriously considering any of the Hexes he'd already learned from James (mainly from having them used on him _by_ James!) on Tommy Nott when his train of thought was broken by a rather excitable boy who hardly came up to his chin.

"Are you Albus Potter? Harry Potter's son?" a very small boy with mouse-brown hair asked.

Albus' first reaction was that the boy had consumed far too much candy, or perhaps caffeinated Muggle fizzy drinks. "Ermmm, yes?" Albus answered.

"And you are?" Rose cut in, as if acting as Albus' personal bodyguard.

"Oh! I'm Edward, Edward Creevey! But everybody jus' calls me 'Eddie'!" The boy held out his hand, nearly tearing Albus' arm out of the socket as he shook hands. "My uncle, Colin, was a year behind your dad, and my dad, Dennis, was behind him. Uncle was killed during the Battle of Hogwarts, you know, but he took some Death Eaters out with him!"

"N-nice to meet you, Eddie?" Albus asked, rather than stated, giving Rose a pleading look. Rose, however, seemed to be enjoying it.

"And you're named after Albus Dumbledore, the only wizard that the Dark Lord was ever afraid of, aren't you?" Edward went on. "My uncle took a lot of pictures of Harry Potter, you know! Wow, you _do _look just like him!"

"I don't have a scar," Albus fumbled, not sure how to react to the bubbling boy.

Behind him and Rose, Scorpius groaned. Other students were beginning to mumble as well, and the three of them were catching the words: "Death Eaters, final battle, Malfoy, fire, Dark Lord," and even a few unflattering phrases.

"And are you...?" Edward paused, when he spotted Rose.

"Rose Weasley," she greeted him politely.

"I _knew_ it!" Edward simply beamed, "Your Gran is Molly Weasley, right? The lady who took out the Dark Lord's right-hand general, Bellatrix LeStrange?"

It was Neville's turn to wince.

"You two simply _must_ sit together in History class," Scorpius observed, and Edward gave him a wary look and backed off.

"Yes, you'll hear all about that in your History of Magic class," Neville assured them, as the doors to the Great Hall opened before him. "C'mon, now! Time for the Sorting. I just love to see a Sorting, and I'm sure you'll enjoy it too! This year, you'll be fighting off a Blast-Ended Skrewt to see which House you should be in!"

Everyone stopped in their tracks. Even Edward.

"Kidding!" Neville laughed. No one else did. "Needs work?"

"Needs work, Uncle, I mean - Professor," Rose smiled at him. "Of course, I'd cast a small Incendio and make the Skrewt think it was a courtship ritual to distract it," Rose added, "After some simple sparks to get its attention." This time, Albus rolled his eyes as Neville just nodded slowly.

"Thanks for that, scaring Edward off, I mean," Albus whispered to Scorpius.

"What I do best," Scorpius shook his head slightly.

"Riiiiight," Neville grinned at Rose, nodding, "Well, this way!" He repeated, gesturing up at the ceiling as they went.

Several "oooh's" and "ahhh's" later, as Rose explained how the bewitched ceiling worked, and the First Years were all standing in a line in the front of the Hall. Everyone at the four tables was watching them, and doing their best to make them decidedly nervous.

Albus kept looking up at the ceiling, though, which was showing them a magnified view of the night sky.

"It's all right, I guess," Scorpius told him, as Albus elbowed him in the ribs to get him to look up at it. Scorpius then went back to looking at his shoes, although Rose noted that his eyes were darting all about, as if making sure that no one was sneaking up on him, or that he knew where all the exits were.

"Look, it's the Hat!" Rose then pointed, as Neville brought out the well-known and battered old Sorting Hat. It was singed around the edges, patched and frayed, but it came to life as Neville placed it on a rickety looking stool. It squirmed around and stared at a very prim and proper lady in the center seat of the High Table, as if waiting.

"Take it away, my friend," Minerva McGonagall nodded to it.

The Hat then began to sing.

Albus wasn't really paying attention to it, though, because his brother James had just hit him in the back of the head with a paper wad. He was wondering how he could get even when Neville nudged him.

"Pay attention, Albie," Neville whispered in his ear, and Albus' stomach flipped.

_Oh, no_! He thought, _Please don't let him call me that out loud like Hagrid did_!

The Hat was just finishing its song, and for some reason, both Albus and Scorpius looked up as it finished:

**"For all that we see, and what **_**may**_** yet be,**

**will be lost to the shadow of Time.**

**Even mountains, they fall,**

**And each one of you - all,**

**may see darkness**

**where light once did shine!"**

There was polite applause, then Neville pulled out his list of names. "When I call your name, please come and sit on the stool and try the Hat on! Baddock, Martin?" He called out.

A rather nondescript boy with brown hair made his way to the stool, and Neville placed the Hat on his head. The Hat 'harrumphed' once, seemed to argue with the boy for a minute, then called out, "RAVENCLAW!"

There was much applause from that table, and his new Housemates greeted Martin Baddock enthusiastically. Martin, however, didn't look all that pleased with the arrangements.

The next several boys and girls were an assortment of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. Each House seemed quite pleased with each new member, but Scorpius seemed to wince a bit whenever the applause started.

Albus had been worrying, however, ever since Edward Creevey had instantly been declared a "GRYFFINDOR!" He was imagining having to share a room with the little bundle of energy, and suddenly wondered if the tiny boy ever slept.

Slytherin didn't get anyone until the Hat declared one "Gamble, Mason," so. It also took a while to figure him out as well, it seemed. Gamble seemed thrilled to take his seat at the Slytherin table, and Albus was once again distracted by memories of James' relentless teasing.

_I won't be in Slytherin unless I just _have_ to,_ Albus kept telling himself. _Dad said I could pick, dad said I could pick..._

Rose seemed quite interested in the ongoing Sorting, but Albus was watching Scorpius, who was still watching his shoes. It bothered him that his old friend was acting so strangely. He remembered how outgoing Scorpius had been when they'd been little, and he just couldn't imagine what had happened to make Scorpius so disliked and introverted. He got another sample, though, when Neville made it to the letter "N" and called out:

"Nott, Thomas."

"Outta the way, bum," Nott sneered, as he pushed past the three of them.

_Should have tripped him_, Albus thought, taking an instant dislike to this boy that Scorpius seemed to already know.

"SLYTHERIN!" The Hat called out, without a second's hesitation. More applause, and Nott didn't seem the least bit surprised as he went to sit at the head of the Slytherin table with Gamble.

Scorpius looked up with a pained expression.

"OK, who mixed up my list? Didn't check it twice?" Neville observed, grinning. McGonagall groaned. "Last time I looked, "M" came before "N"? Scorpius Malfoy?" He then glanced at Rose.

"Needs work," She whispered to him from behind her hand.

But Scorpius didn't move. For one awful instant, he thought he'd been left off the list.

"Beats getting back on the train, though?" Albus joked.

"Come along, now Mr. Malfoy," Neville encouraged him, but it was obvious that even Neville was uncertain.

"Maybe," Scorpius sighed, as he went, head down, to sit on the stool. As he shuffled along, looking like a condemned man on the way to the gallows, whispers and murmurings began with the mention of his name. Albus strained his ears, tearing his attention away from a cluster of annoyingly close floating candles.

_"...family disappeared...was there when...his old man...in Diagon Alley years ago...never found out who did...were Death Eaters in the War...had to have been...my old man said...but Potter testified for them...,"_

The Hat promptly fell down over Scorpius' eyes, covering everything but his chin. Some of the students laughed. Only Edward Creevey, it seemed, was smaller.

The Hat looked utterly perplexed.

"What's it saying to him?" Albus whispered to Rose.

"Now how should _I_ know?" Rose replied in that patronizing tone she always took when Albus asked a silly question, "It's not on _my_ head, now, is it?"

"Guess not," Albus muttered, watching and worrying, as the Hat seemed to being having the longest talk yet with Scorpius. Albus couldn't help but wonder if his old friend were glad that at least the Hat was talking to him?

"I think I've already starved to death," James then said, a bit too loudly. At the High Table, McGonagall actually laughed.

"Do you _mind_?" The Hat twisted around and asked her. Then it turned its attentions back to Scorpius.

Beneath the Hat, Scorpius was squirming. His father had, of course, told him how the Hat worked. But nothing could have prepared a child for a Hat that not only talked, but also seemed to know everything about you.

"It's been a long time since I Sorted a Malfoy," the Hat observed calmly, whispering so that only Scorpius could hear it.

Scorpius didn't reply, trembling a little as the voice of the Hat seemed to invade his mind.

"There's only one House into which I've ever placed a Malfoy," the Hat said, "But you're not sure, are you?"

"No," Scorpius finally admitted, and he found that in that one simple thought, a great burden seemed to lift.

"Well, you _are _intelligent enough for Ravenclaw, but I don't think you'll learn what you need to know in there." The Hat then twitched slightly.

"I see!" It sounded amused, "You _liked _that girl, didn't you?"

"_What_?!" Scorpius gasped.

"Oh, I'll get to her soon enough, my boy. You see, it's all right here, in your head!" The Hat paused again. Scorpius snidely hoped that it was having a good time at his expense.

"I...I...she was nice to me," Scorpius finally admitted, and as soon as he thought it...

"Like your friend, Albus?" The Hat asked. "Such is the making of the perfect Hufflepuff, you know? And you're desperate for someone to like you, aren't you?"

"Daddy would just have a stroke," Scorpius countered, "As would the rest of the Hufflepuffs, I'll guess?" Although Scorpius wouldn't admit to himself that the Hat was probably right. He'd always hated Primary School and how he'd been treated, never understanding why, that no matter what he did, no one liked him.

"Your father's very important to you, isn't he?" The Hat asked, and in an instant, as Scorpius searched his memory of each hug, every kiss, all those strange looks look on his father's face - which he now finally understood - the Hat knew and understood them as well.

"Your father loves _you_ more than his own life," The Hat told the boy, "And you can't begin to imagine the load of guilt he bears for how you have been - are going to be treated."

Scorpius sniffled, realizing just how homesick he was already. He was glad that no one could see his face just then.

Then he remembered something else.

"A cursed package," the Hat observed with great interest, as the memory of the exploding little statue flashed through his mind.

"That was when he decided to start traveling, so they wouldn't find us," Scorpius explained.

"To protect you," the Hat said, feeling to Scorpius as if it were nodding. "And that was when you lost your only friend?"

"We wrote," Scorpius replied, "But..."

"You lost contact?"

"Yes. Some of the owls never came back, either."

"Well, you're here now," the Hat reminded him, "And while I'm of a mind that you'd be the perfect Hufflepuff in your dedications that you've already shown me, there's a streak in you, boy - a streak which that quiet old House would never be able to manage."

"Gryffindor, then?" Scorpius wondered, "Isn't that where all the wild rule-breakers go, like Daddy said? Wouldn't that just be rich? Daddy would disown me!" He almost laughed at how he thought his family would take that bit of news. It might even be headline news in the Daily Prophet:

**Hogwarts Sorting Scandal - Scorpius Malfoy in **_**Gryffindor**_**!**

"You could do very, very well in Gryffindor, yes," The Hat agreed, "And Draco would never disown you, you silly boy! Plenty of courage, in fact. But your family, the connections to the past, your heart, and your fierce drive to prove yourself leave me only one option - even though you're like no Malfoy I've ever met before!"

"Seriously?" Scorpius asked, as the Hat made him see that which he hadn't wanted to believe - that he was afraid of being in Slytherin for fear that he wasn't good enough and would be disappointing to his family.

"You may be your father's son, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, but you are _not_ your father! Where he had only arrogant pride that would later prove to be his downfall, you do not. Therefore, let it be - **SLYTHERIN!"** The Hat then bellowed, and a hush fell over the Great Hall.

Not one single person clapped.

Not even a teacher.

Albus bit his lower lip as he took in the look on his friend's face, then began to clap. The Rose joined him. They continued until they'd caused a slight smattering of polite applause, even though everyone was staring at Albus now and he could feel his face burning.

Albus swallowed hard as Neville reclaimed the Hat, and Scorpius tentatively made his way to the Slytherin table. Gamble and Nott moved down a ways, leaving at least three seats between them near the head of the table. Scorpius sat and just proceeded to stare at his empty gold plate, wiping a bit of dust from the goblet. No one greeted him.

Albus glanced over at him, worried all over again that they were about to be split up after having just reunited. And there was Scorpius, sitting alone at the head of the Slytherin table.

The next child, a boy of African descent by the name of "Oliphante, Mike," went to Hufflepuff. A Latin girl by the name of "Oliveria" went to Ravenclaw, and one "Janet Pence" became a Gryffindor.

"Potter, Albus!" Neville called out.

Albus didn't hear him; he was too busy worrying and exchanging glares with James again. James was flicking his tongue at him, trying to mimic a snake. Albus made an obscene Muggle gesture at him involving one finger.

"POTTER, ALBUS!" Neville said, louder, and then rolled up the list and whacked him over the head with it!

"That would be you," Rose reminded her cousin, shoving him forward. The remaining First Years, having gained some confidence at seeing their peers not being eaten by Skrewts after all, laughed.

"You can do it, little bro'!" James then yelled, with a scattering of applause from the Gryffindors. After all, every single Potter and Weasley in existence had, so far, been a Gryffindor, and a great many of them were in attendance. To Sort elsewhere was unimaginable. Victoire gave him an encouraging little smile.

Albus felt his face burning as he sat down and the Hat fell down over his face as well. A tiny puff of dust tickled his nose, and Albus sneezed.

"Potters, Weasleys, and _you_, oh my!" The Hat chuckled. Then Albus felt it squeeze his head, as it turned serious. "Albus Severus Potter," it mused, "_You_ may be the toughest one yet!"

"Sorry," Albus muttered.

"No need to say it aloud, it's all in your head," the Hat said, sounding more soothing. "Well, for starters, scratch Ravenclaw. No, out of the question. Good marks so far, but you'll never make it past the common room door knockers," the Hat informed him.

Albus thought about that.

"No, the Reductor Curse won't work," the Hat had to laugh. "Is that always your family's first answer?"

"When all else fails, blow it up, Uncle Ron says,_ and_ my mum!" Albus felt himself grinning.

"Ronald Weasley, and Ginny!" the Hat sighed. "At least I knew what to do with _them_," it groaned. "But a half a Weasley? Had a lot of those lately. How many more?"

"Loads," Albus assured it, "Dad wants eight kids."

"Then your mother will want a divorce," the Hat laughed; then it turned serious again. "You see, Albus, I almost put your father in Slytherin House, although he too would have been an excellent Hufflepuff. His defense of his first, best friend told me that. It also turned the tide of things, perhaps even altering Destiny itself. History may have been written much differently, depending on whose hand he accepted. Just as it now has been rewritten by whose hand _you_ have accepted."

"Ermmm," Albus began to fidget too, realizing then just why Ravenclaw was out of the question. Was the Hat talking about Scorpius? Albus didn't remember refusing to shake hands, or be rude to anyone - other than James - and James didn't really count, since they were brothers.

"But as I told young Master Malfoy just now, you may be your father's son. You may be a miniature carbon copy of him, but you are not _him_. You are your own person, Albus, and it's taken a rough day for your friend to realize that about himself, too. You, on the other hand, have known it all along. I think he's lucky to have reunited with you?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," James groaned, quieter this time.

"No' again?" His friend Sean Finnigan sighed.

"Dad told us the story about you, wanting to put him in Slytherin House," Albus agreed.

"So here we sit, you and I, and you carrying the names of a great Gryffindor, as well as a great Slytherin," the Hat said cryptically, "So what do I do with you, then, Mr. Potter?"

"Dad's OK with whatever you choose," Albus told it, but deep down, he was stewing over James' teasing, how his father might take the news if his Sorting went wrong, and the fact that his friend Scorpius had just Sorted into Slytherin.

He remembered Scorpius' words on the train, about how the Sorting was going to rip their renewed friendship apart all too soon.

Albus turned his head in what he thought was the direction of the Slytherin table, wondering if Scorpius was sitting there all alone.

"But what do _you_ want, my boy?" The Hat asked him again. "Weren't you listening? Your brother, being the perfect Gryffindor that he is, aggravates you to no end, doesn't he?"

Albus suddenly felt indignant. For as long as he could remember, James was always teasing him, setting booby traps for him, and lately even Hexing him. Albus was rapidly getting tired of it, and all the teasing about being a snake, an "asp", because of his initials, inexplicably came to the forefront. And hadn't James and Victoire gotten upset with him for sitting with Scorpius on the train?

"You know what _you_ want," the Hat observed, sounding proud. "Tell me, Albus Severus Potter, _what_ do you want?"

"This ends tonight!" Albus told the Hat, as its words sank in and the boy realized that the only person he had to worry about pleasing with his Sorting was himself. Inside of him, something clicked. Actually, it was more like 'snapped'.

Well, and maybe one other to please...

Albus sneezed again.

"There's that Hufflepuff streak again. Poor child, only _you _started clapping for him," the Hat pointed out, and Albus felt as if it were smiling. "You'd not do so well without _him_, I think, and for all the threads in me, I don't know why. It's very odd, to Sort two students, the sons of such bitter enemies, who are so much alike. There's a connection there, it seems, but I can't define it."

"_You_ said we're not our fathers?" Albus reminded it.

"I did."

And something else came to Albus as well, as he turned his head again in a direction that he could only guess at. He thought about a small, silver frame that held a photo of a lonely little boy...a little boy that even Hagrid didn't seem to like.

"Someone needs me," he nodded.

"YES!" The Hat seemed to crow in delight, "Exactly! Oh, you _are_ a strange one, Albus, but I now know where you simply _must _go!"

"This is gonna shake things up like the Whomping Willow," Albus grinned, as the answer came to him as well.

His Dad would be proud, he'd said, no matter what.

Godbrother Teddy would just laugh.

And it would serve James right for teasing him.

Grandma Molly, on the other hand, well...Albus thought he might have to call in reinforcements for that one...

Yet Albus felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions at once, as if someone had a hold of his ears and were tugging on them.

"Oddly enough, I feel as if I've Sorted you before, Albus," the Hat commented, but Albus knew its mind was made up. "You give me the worst sense of déjà vu?"

"Is...is something wrong?" Albus heard Neville asking, his voice distant and hollow.

"Oh, no, there's _nothing_ wrong! In fact, as I can see it, _all_ is right!" the Hat replied to Neville, which was highly unusual. "Someone needs you," the Hat agreed, whispering it in the vaults of Albus' mind.

Albus felt as if he were tearing inside, somehow, but then it passed. He shivered again, but he had made his choice.

"Do it!" Albus then encouraged the Hat, with a newfound confidence that surprised him.

Very suddenly, all of his fear about James' teasing, living up to everyone's expectations, and not knowing which rumors to believe all left him. For the first time since his Hogwarts letter had come, Albus was perfectly calm. "Bring on the Skrewts!" he thought wildly.

**"SLYTHERIN!" **The Hat literally thundered.

The Great Hall went dead quiet, as a chill seemed to pass through the room.

The Ghosts stopped, hanging in midair.

Several of the candles blew out, as if a window had suddenly been opened.

Even Peeves the Poltergeist froze, in the act of making rabbit ears behind McGonagall's head.

Albus pushed the Hat up and looked around, and all he saw were jaws dropping and eyes widening, all of them staring at him. He tentatively handed the old Hat back to Neville, who swallowed hard, took it, and then fainted. He turned around to see the teachers staring at him. Hagrid looked gobsmacked. Tiny little Professor Flitwick fell out of his chair in shock, as Madame Pomfrey revived Uncle Neville.

Then was no applause.

There was only a loud "THUMP!", and Albus looked up to see that Hagrid had bonked his head down on the table.

"No?" Edward Creevey whimpered.

But as Albus began making his way to the Slytherin table, it suddenly burst into riotous applause. Many of them stood up and cheered, and a tall boy with a shining silver Prefect's badge on his chest heartily shook Albus' hand. He introduced himself as one 'Garrison Pritchard'. Cries of "Take that, Gryffindors!" and "We got him!" then began to fill the Hall.

The Gryffindors then all began shouting back, feeling that Slytherin had stolen one of their own. James stood up, his face bright red and his ears looking as if they were about to catch fire, and demanded a re-Sort. "THAT'S _MY_ LITTLE BROTHER!" He shouted at the Slytherins. "You give him _back_!"

"Tell it to tha' Hat!" Pritchard laughed at him.

"I was _kidding_!" James implored the Hat. "I didn't mean it!" He then looked at Albus, being welcomed to the 'enemies' house'. "Albie, I was kidding!" He called.

The Hat smirked at James. Albus glared at him.

_So NOW he defends me_? Albus thought to himself in amazement. _NOW?!_ He also found that it really, really, aggravated him. All that teasing, a whole miserable summer of it, and _now_ James was defending him? From _what_?!

"My name is 'Albus'," Albus told him coldly, and James slowly sat down, his look of shock turning to one of anger.

"This is just a scandal," Victoire Weasley gasped; it sounded like, "Zis is jus' a scand-all'," her face pale and her strawberry blonde hair seeming to glow. The Slytherin Prefect, Pritchard, shivered.

"W-well, if...if you want him back," He fumbled.

"No Veela-ing!" One of the Slytherin girls shouted back. Victoire shook her head suggestively. Pritchard drooled a bit.

James then stood up again, along with his friends and cousins, and words began to fly. Seconds later, and wands were drawn.

"Children, **children**!" McGonagall called for order, finally resorting to firing a loud blast from her own wand that shook the enchanted ceiling. "The Sorting is the Sorting, and may _not_ be questioned," she reminded them. "The Hat does not lie or mislead!"

The Slytherins cheered again.

Albus was obliged, much to his surprise, to shake several hands before he was allowed to sit down.

And when he finally sat down, he sat next to Scorpius.

"Wicked!" They greeted one another.

"Please tell me you _didn't_?" Scorpius then said softly, and Albus noticed Scorpius' hand in his pocket. He also felt as if his head had just been wrapped in a blanket, recognizing a Muffliato Charm at once.

"Nope, got in on my own," Albus smiled at him.

Scorpius didn't buy it, until he saw Albus exchange glares with his brother James again. James, it appeared, was beyond angry and bordering on a seizure. "Uncle Ron would be so proud of him," Albus commented.

"Oh, well done, then, Albus," Scorpius smiled at his first friend. "I suppose you're right, of course," he then took on a very cool and detached demeanor, which Albus didn't buy, either. "On the other hand, I think _you_ might be the one who needs protection," Scorpius pointed out, as Neville finally made it to the letter "W".

"Weasley, Rosie! _Rose_, that is!" He called out, and the Hat hardly even touched her head before it yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose got up, smoothed her robe, and fixed both Albus and Scorpius with a look that could have killed, as the old saying went.

Albus felt his stomach falling.

He hadn't considered Rose's reaction to his choice.

"On second thought, maybe we _both_ need protection?" Scorpius reasoned, as Rose went to sit next to Victoire at the applauding Gryffindor table. The two Weasley ladies then began to whisper to one another.

"I hate it when women do that," Pritchard commented.

The last student to be Sorted was "Zabini, Brock," a boy with dark bronze skin and a shaven head. He joined the Slytherins and sat between Albus and Gamble after exchanging a look with Goyle.

McGonagall then called for attention. "Tuck in, everyone! We'll have announcements _later_!" She exclaimed, her eyes lingering over the Slytherin table. "Seeing as how the Sorting ran a bit long?"

And then the tables filled with food, reminding the boys just how hungry they were. But as Albus glanced up at the high table to see if Hagrid and Uncle Neville had recovered or not, he caught Professor McGonagall giving him an inquiring look. He grinned, ever so slightly, and nodded to her.

She nodded back.

"Pass the potatoes," Thomas Nott then said, rather than asked, but when Scorpius picked up the bowl, Nott turned his attention to the corn and ignored him.

Albus and Scorpius exchanged a look. Scorpius gave the bowl to Albus.

The next thing that Nott knew, he was wearing the bowl of mashed potatoes on his head!

"Excuse me, but that was rude," Albus informed him.

"Wha' the...?!" Nott spluttered.

"Butter?" Scorpius asked politely, as Pritchard watched them, allowing it to play out to see where it went. Albus glanced at him, knowing he was in trouble, but Pritchard just nodded slightly to him.

Albus then reached over and grabbed Nott by the necktie and yanked him forward. Nott made a gurgling sound as he cocked the bowl back on his head to see, dripping mashed potatoes all over.

"Now you listen to me, Nott-head," Albus told him flatly, "Unless you want this necktie to start randomly contracting to half its size when you least expect it, I'd suggest you learn some manners!"

"S-s-sorry!" Nott wheezed, as Albus released him.

"Anyone else got a problem with the seating arrangements?" Albus asked pointedly, "Because it's no problem for us to keep all this food right where it is, where _we_ can reach it?"

"Oh, no!" Mason Gamble shook his head, as did Zabini. Food, it seemed, was more important to them just then.

"Good!" Albus replied curtly, "Because I heard some pretty bad things about the Malfoys, and I'd not want to get Scorpius stirred up," he bluffed them.

Scorpius just stared, but one of his eyebrows went up. He tapped Albus on the shoulder.

"What?" Albus asked sharply, and Scorpius pointed over his shoulder.

Albus then turned around to see a tall man standing there, his pinched face unreadable below his dark, neat hair.

"Professor Urquhart, sir?" Pritchard greeted him.

"Potter," Urquhart nodded, with just a slight smile. He then waved his wand and cleaned up Nott. "Explain yourself?"

"He was being rude, sir," Albus said plainly. "He asked Scorpius for potatoes, then refused them. So _I_ gave them to him, sir."

"Well, as you may or may not know, Mr. Potter, I am Professor Miles Urquhart, your Head of House and Potions Master," he flexed his hands, and his joints cracked. Albus swallowed and reached for his water glass, with visions of detention in his head already.

"And I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter." Urquhart then looked at Nott. "One point from Slytherin," he then announced, turning back to Albus. "And five points for Slytherin, in your name, Mr. Potter," he concluded, turning to head back to the High Table as the emeralds in the Slytherin hourglass moved.

"Wha' the...?" James spluttered, having been watching the exchange with great interest. "My little brother just got points? For trying to start a food fight?"

"Tha's Slytherin fer yeh," Sean Finnigan shook his head. "Who knows wha' they get up to o'er there?"

"_Boys_," Rose rolled her eyes.

"I'm writing Mum and Dad tonight!" James declared.

"Are you?" Victoire asked. "And what will you tell them?"

"That Albus, that he...that he's...well, YOU KNOW?!" James spluttered.

"Yes, but _you_ kept telling us all that he was going to be, ever since our Hogwarts letters came?" Rose reminded him. "This is all _your_ fault."

James' face got red again, and someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see a boy with light blond hair down to his shoulders, seated at the Ravenclaw bench just behind them. "Hey, Lorcan," James greeted him. "How's Aunt Luna?"

"Great, thank you," Lorcan Scamander replied. "Oh, Lysander?"

"Yes?" Lorcan's identical twin replied from the Gryffindor table.

"Did we just see Albus Potter Sort into Slytherin?" Lorcan asked, "I was busy checking for Wrackspurts under the table?"

"He did," Lysander agreed, looking under their table as well. "All clear here!"

"Thank Merlin we only got one o' 'em," Sean sighed.

"Oui," Dominique* Weasley agreed, from his place next to Sean. He ran a hand through his hair, the same color as his older sister's, and just shook his head. "Who would have thought? Little Albie?"

James bonked his head on the table. "First the French, part Veelas, a Metamorphing-werewolf, an accountant, and now a Slytherin," he sighed in resignation. "Merlin, what a family!"

"Yes, and you remember that, James Sirius Potter," Rose warned him in that dangerous tone, "'Family'." She then looked up and offered a tiny little wave towards the Slytherin table.

Albus caught it and nervously waved back.

But he did smile, finally noticing the shining green and silver patch bearing a serpent that had appeared on his robe. His tie had turned green and silver as well.

Rose pointed at her own, the Gryffindor lion, and just smiled at him.

Albus sighed in relief as he picked out a nice piece of roast beef.

Rosie wasn't going to kill him after all!

"She's baiting us," Scorpius then warned him, and Albus wasn't sure if he was kidding or not.

"Ermmm," Albus thought about it, not paying attention, and cut his finger on his steak knife. "OWWW!" He yelled, as his finger bled all over his new robe. Scorpius pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it.

"Thanks," Albus groaned.

"Eh," Scorpius waved it off. "I got a splinter from the dock rail, too. We keep it up, we may be in Hospital before we get to bed!"

"You think so?" Albus grinned, but as he squeezed his finger, he started to feel lightheaded.

"Put some pressure on it! Merlin's beard, Albie, did you hit an artery?" James was suddenly asking him.

Albus looked up, ready to yell at his brother for having the nerve to come over to their table, when he saw the red and gold trim on his own sleeve. Then Victoire was there, touching her wand to his finger, healing it.

"Now isn't that all so much better, Albie?" She comforted him.

"Whut...what the...?" Albus managed, as he glanced over to the far side of the room.

From the Slytherin table, Scorpius Malfoy was laughing at him and pointing, making a great show of sawing at his finger with his butter knife. Then he stopped, and his expression turned into a lethal glare. Zabini and Nott glared at him as well, laughing alongside Scorpius.

"Albus? Hello, Potter? Are you quite all right?" Pritchard the Prefect was then asking him, giving him a good shake, as he touched his wand to Albus' finger and the bleeding stopped.

"Eat something, Mate, you look pale," Scorpius advised him, absently brushing a bit of dust from his sleeve. "Must speak to the maid?"

"Oh, right," Albus managed, yanking his necktie out to look at the green and silver trim. He then plunged his fork into the roast.

_Stress,_ Albus told himself, feeling better already as he wolfed his food._ Imagining things, right! James got me all wound up again! Must write Mum'n'Dad tonight, yes!_

_*Note - So is Dominique Weasley a boy or girl? Opinions and etymology of the name vary. Of course, with shifting Timelines, who cares?_


	3. Chapter 3 Nightmares

**III**

**Nightmares **

Pritchard led the First Years down the stairs and into a long and dimly lit passageway that he explained was taking them out under the Black Lake. He then showed them how to sense the presence of their Common Room's door, which was camouflaged into the stone wall. Albus thought that it felt like a little tug on his sleeve. Pritchard then showed them the "Homenum Revelio" charm, to detect the presence of other persons in the passageway.

"Don't want anyone who doesn't need to know finding our entrance or password," he told them. Once everyone seemed to have the knack of it, he told them the password - "Hemachatus haemachatus," Latin for "spitting cobra."

As Pritchard gathered everyone around the fireplace in the Common Room and explained the importance and history of the House and House loyalty, which Albus had already heard from every member of his family, he realized that he wasn't hearing anything that he didn't already know. He let his eyes begin to wander around the room.

A large portrait of a balding man with a somewhat Simian face and long white hair and beard seemed to be staring right at him. He also had piercing green eyes, which gave Albus the chills. The portrait didn't seem to be animated, however, but that didn't make the old man look any less intimidating.

"Pay attention, Potter!" Pritchard's voice brought Albus back.

Albus looked away from the portrait to see that he and Scorpius were sitting some distance away from everyone else on a short sofa. He heard someone mumble the word "loveseat" and some stifled snickers.

About the only part of the speech to which Albus paid any attention was the line: "You are all Slytherins now, and I _expect_ you to treat one another as such." Perhaps it was the looks and whispered comments that he and Scorpius seemed to be getting just then. _But if that's the case, why'd they welcome me, then_? Albus had to wonder._ And why don't they like Scorpius?_

When Pritchard was done making his speech, he showed the First Year boys to their dormitory, which was at the very far end of the Slytherin Chambers (as Pritchard called them). The room was quite large, even spacious, and the other three boys didn't hesitate to take the three beds nearest the door.

"They could have asked," Albus muttered to Scorpius.

"Welcome to Slytherin, my friend," Scorpius replied, looking around the room with wide eyes. "It's just like Dad said it would be," he whispered, seemingly in awe, but with a little catch in his voice. And almost as if it had been waiting for him, Scorpius saw his cedar trunk at the foot of the bed.

One unexpected benefit from being on the far end of the long room, however, was the fact that Albus and Scorpius had a large window behind a green curtain, which Pritchard revealed with a flick of his wand. "Smashing view in the daytime, or under a full moon. But remember to close it! Sometimes you end up with Merfolk voyeurs," Pritchard laughed.

"Oh," Scorpius said, but Pritchard ignored him as he nodded to Albus again and then went to chat briefly with the others before heading out to check on the Second and Third Years.

"All right over there?" Albus asked.

"Fine," Zabini nodded to him. "You?"

"Fine, thanks," Albus replied.

"So long as there's no food hidden in here," Nott mumbled.

But out of all of them, only Gamble came over to see the window. He then nodded quickly to Scorpius, and went back to unpacking. Scorpius sighed, and did the same.

Albus glanced at Gamble, Nott, and Zabini, who still seemed to be sneaking nervous glances at them, and then had an idea. "Let's write our folks now and tell them!" He suggested excitedly.

That task took longer than expected though, as both boys tried to find the right words to tell their parents what had just happened. Albus was a bit worried that his mother might be upset, and Scorpius seemed too distracted to write much. They were up quite late, and in fact, the others had pulled their curtains and gone to bed before they were finished.

_"Dear Mum and Dad:_

_I supose you've alredy heard, seeing as how you know everybody and Hagrid fainted at the Staff table. I figure Uncle Neville has already Floo'd you to tell you, but in case he forgot - he was prety shook up - I Sorted into Slytherin!_

_Please don't be mad at me for not making Gryffindor._

_You said that Grandma Andromeda said that it was fine, and she was a Slytherin, too?_

_Besides, it was worth the look on James face! Rose said it was fine with her, that she thought it was all silly to act like that._

_I made a new friend, too, on the train. We even got beds next to each other. Write more later, gotta go to bed now._

_ Scorpius says hi._

_Your son,_

_Albus Severus Potter"_

Albus read his letter several times, and decided that he was happy with it. Scorpius seemed to have finally completed his, too.

_"Dear Mum and Dad:_

_I Sorted into Slytherin, just as you said I would. I know Mum wasn't big on the idea and really wanted me to change things for the Malfoy Family, but I think someone else is going to help me with that._

_I've made a friend already, too. We've got beds next to each other, and you wouldnt believe the amunt of magic that he already knows! I think you knew his father when you were in school, too, he says? Harry Potter? Anyway, it's lights out for us soon. I'll write more tomorow. Albus says hello, too._

_That's him, Albus Severus Potter._

_Your son,_

_Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy"_

By the time they were done, Pritchard had returned to tell them that it was lights out. "Albus Potter, in Slytherin!" He laughed, seeing the letters in the boys' hands. "We should go and mail those now!"

"Can we?" Albus asked. "Really?"

"Owls fly at night, don't they?" Pritchard replied. "And _I_ am a school Prefect," he added airily. "Besides, I get to stay up later, and if I choose to show you the Owlry, I can. Besides, if Mr. Smith finds us, I'll just tell him I caught you both out of bed."

Smith, it turned out, was the grizzled old Caretaker who had taken over for a happily retiring Argus Filch some years earlier. Pritchard told them that while he was a bit of a nutter as far as cleanliness, he wasn't nearly so nasty as Filch had been. They bumped into him on the way, and he actually greeted the boys and sent them off with a warning to not make messes.

"You two _do _have owls, don't you?" Pritchard asked, as they arrived at the Owlry.

"Yes," both boys replied.

Albus introduced Scorpius to Talon, his dark Horned Owl. Scorpius proudly presented Abaddon, a fine Eagle Owl, and their letters were soon winging off towards home.

"Get some sleep, boys, big day tomorrow," Pritchard told them, "Oh, and watch out for Mauser, he doesn't like being stepped on."

Scorpius raised an eyebrow.

"What's a 'Mauser'?" Albus asked.

"A very old garden snake that took up residence in your dormitory when I was a Firstie. He's harmless, but he tends to crawl into bed with you when it's cold," Pritchard replied. And with that, he bade the boys goodnight.

"I think he's joking, like the one about fighting a Skrewt," Scorpius reasoned.

Albus had just pulled his blankets back when one of the snakes on the patterned sheets moved. "GAAAHHH! I think I just found Mauser," he told Scorpius.

"Ehhh, he won't take up too much room," Scorpius shrugged, as he stood there staring at his own bed.

"Erm, hi?" Albus told the snake, unsure what do, and much to his surprise, the snake raised up and asked him, "You do not snore, do you?"

"Uh, no?" Albus replied, and not knowing what else to say (never mind the fact that he was _talking_ to a snake), the boy asked in reply, "Do you?"

"No."

"Who are you talking to?" Scorpius asked. Then his eyes went wide. "You're a Parselmouth?" He whispered.

"Uh-Apparently?" Albus said, having never been that close to a live snake before. After all, there weren't that many snakes around Grimmauld Place, and Grandpa Weasley religiously exterminated them at the Burrow. "My dad is, but..."

"Well don't tell anyone," Scorpius advised. "No wonder you Sorted here." Then he sat down on his bed and sighed.

"You OK?" Albus asked.

Scorpius nodded. "Being ignored just wears me out," he replied, as he got into bed and pulled his curtains. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Are you going to get in this bed or not? It's chilly down here," Mauser reminded Albus.

After being assured that he wouldn't be bitten, Albus pulled on his pyjamas and finally got into bed. Mauser curled up next to him.

While it was a very nice bed, Albus had trouble getting to sleep. It wasn't the fact that he was sharing the bed with a good-sized snake, either, although that didn't help. Albus liked animals, and he was quite looking forward to seeing Hagrid on Friday. In fact, it had been Hagrid that had instilled that love of animals in him ever since he'd been able to remember.

What he missed was that no one came to tuck him in. No one came to kiss him goodnight. He was hearing strange noises, and no familiar ones. Kreacher wasn't going to be coming to leave midnight snacks on his nightstand. Not even James could get in to shrink-wrap him in his own blankets as a prank.

And no one would be coming to wake him up if he had bad dreams, or hold him until he went back to sleep.

He also didn't know that in the bed next to him, his friend was laying awake thinking exactly the same things.

"'night, Mauser," Albus whispered. His answer was a tickling in his ear.

"Goodnight, Thunderhead," Scorpius whispered to his stuffed toy Hippogriff._ Goodnight, Daddy,_ he thought, wishing that his father could hear him...

**-O:-----**

As letters home were a very important thing for the students, Talon and Abaddon knew to go straight to the Hogsmeade Owl Post Office so that the Postmistress could Priority Apparate them straight to the their respective residences. She herself had come up with that idea after graduation, and was quite proud of herself. The bill for services, which she collected, was nice too.

At #12 Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter was sitting in his favorite chair near the window and waiting.

"For pity's sake, Harry," Andromeda Tonks told him. "You and Teddy have work in the morning! What makes you think Albus will write tonight?"

"I _know_ him," Harry replied, and sure enough, there was a POP! just outside the window that announced Talon's arrival. Harry anxiously grabbed the letter.

"Well?" Teddy asked.

"SLTHERIN?!" Harry yelled, tossing the letter and nearly falling out of his chair.

"Didn't see _that_ one coming, did you, Uncle?" Teddy Lupin chuckled, as his Grandma Andromeda just laughed.

"Mum is going to have a stroke," Ginny fretted, as they all read the letter again.

Miles away at Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy stood on the terrace of his spacious bedroom, sipping wine and waiting.

"Abaddon will be here any moment, Darling," Astoria assured him, and sure enough, the owl came swooping down to them not a minute later.

"Murderous priority mail fees," Draco complained, but there was a smile on his face as they retreated to the bedroom to read the letter.

"I'll pour us another, to celebrate," Astoria suggested, and Draco nodded as he tore the letter open to reveal his son's neat script, if not misspelled words. Then his eyes went wide.

"WHAT?!" Draco Malfoy then yelled, jumping out of his chair and spilling dark, red wine all over his lap. "Darling!? Astoria?! Come and read this!" He shouted.

Astoria, returning with a new bottle, insisted he read it _to_ her. Draco did that. "Read it again, it sounds lovely, Darling."

"No," Draco breathed, his face going very pale as he grabbed his glass and gulped his wine. Astoria poured him another. After nearly five years of his odd episodes, she knew better than to ask. "It can't happen like this _again_. Not with Albus. Oh, Merlin! _Why_ can't that boy _ever _Sort into Gryffindor where he _belongs_?"

"I thought you liked the Potter boy?" Astoria asked. "I'm so glad they got back together after all these years, and in _Slytherin_, no less! It's perfect!"

"It's perfect, yes," Draco shook his head, looking up at her as if her as he were staring at a hungry dragon. "_Perfect_ for it to start all over again..." his voice trailed off, as he poured himself another and gulped it.

He then flicked his wand, summoning a dusty bottle of very old brandy from the liquor cabinet.

Draco didn't drink often, but when he did, Astoria knew exactly how he would get. He would become withdrawn and silent, and if he did talk, it would be in bits and snatches that made no sense to her. And his ramblings were always the same - things like: "happening again", "no more chances to change it", "can't bear it", "so horrible, the first time", and other cryptic things like "he took Thunderhead," and "outgrew his other shoes."

It was also during these periods that Draco became obsessed with cleanliness, making sure that not even one speck of dust was to be found anywhere in the Manor. The only thing that would snap him out of it, Astoria knew, was to just let him ramble and spend some time in Scorpius' room - alone. Eventually he would drink himself into oblivion, pass out, wake up quite ill the next morning, and then return to normal.

**-O:---**

Albus awoke from the nightmare so terrified that he couldn't even scream. It was as if James had sneaked in and petrified him. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, and most of all - he couldn't cry out for help. Drenched in sweat from the intense heat that he could still feel, all he wanted to do was tear his blankets off and get some cool, fresh air.

When mobility finally returned to his body, he jumped up and yanked his curtains open, his bare feet hitting the cold stone floor and bringing him back to his senses at once. He was so hot, and his head hurt so badly that it was making him cough and whimper. He grabbed up his glasses and jammed them on his face, bringing the room into focus. Deciding that a drink of water was definitely in order, he pulled on his dressing gown and grabbed his wand, glad that the dim, soft glow of a green light was still shining in the corner near the door.

The nightmare had been so vivid.

He'd been riding the Hogwarts Express, going home he thought, but he had been wearing the Sorting Hat. The Hat had kept yelling at him all the way, calling out the names of three of the four Houses the whole time. And try as he might, Albus couldn't pull it off. It was as if the thing were Sticky Charmed to his head, obscuring his vision, and he couldn't find what he was looking for.

But he hadn't _known_ what he was looking for.

Albus remembered that he'd desperately wanted to get off the train. He'd wanted to reach up and grab an emergency brake cable, to shout at someone - anyone - that he had to get off the train before it reached...

"Kings Cross," Albus murmured, as he turned to find his slippers. "Before the fire!"

Albus froze.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to his, and looking terrified, was Scorpius. He had a stuffed toy clutched to his chest, and he was gasping and coughing as if suffocating. He was also soaked with sweat, and as Albus slowly moved towards him, Scorpius' hand shot out and grabbed his left arm in a death grip.

"Fire!" Scorpius wheezed, his glazed blue eyes unfocused as he stared at a newly frightened Albus. "Train...fire..." He then began to cough, rocking himself back and forth. "Get out of the way!" He tried to shove Albus aside, "You'll be burned!"

_How can he have dreamed the same thing?! _Albus wondered, trembling all over. "Scorpy, wake up! It's jus' a bad dream!" Albus hissed, hoping to not wake the others. He could just imagine the tormenting they'd get the next day if that were to happen.

Unfortunately for Albus, he didn't realize that the toy Hippogriff was Charmed to be animated - and just like a real one at that. Thunderhead screamed at him, and lashed out at Albus' hand with his front claws.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" Albus yelled, as one of the toy's talons sliced into one of his fingers.

"Albus! ALBUS, WAKE UP!" Albus heard someone yelling at him. He opened his eyes again, and stared right up into the worried and sharp face of Eddie Creevey.

"You had a nightmare!" Eddie told him, giving Albus a somewhat too enthusiastic shake that knocked his glasses askew. "You went to sleep with your glasses on?" Eddie looked perplexed.

Albus looked around, and all he saw was scarlet and gold curtains and blankets. "Wh-where am I?" He gasped, his mouth dry and sticky.

"In your bed, in Gryffindor Tower, silly!" Eddie informed him. Albus blinked. Eddie was wearing screaming yellow pyjamas with attached feet, which answered Albus' earlier question as to whether the small boy ever slept or not. Then Eddie gasped. "Albus, you're bleeding! Victoire's healing didn't go right!"

"Wha's goin' on?" Someone else asked, and Albus looked around to see three other boys he didn't know looking at them.

"It's cut to the bone," Eddie breathed, "We better get to the Hospital!"

"Gryffindor?" Albus mumbled. Then he jumped up, and yelled the first thing that came to his mind:

**"JAMES!"**

Eddie was shoving him towards the door when it burst open.

"Hell, Albie, we can hear you through the wall! These bad dreams of yours..." James began, but he stopped when he saw his little brother's badly bleeding finger. Behind him, Dominique, Sean, and Lysander gasped.

Madame Iris Pomfrey was less than impressed to be dragged out of bed at three in the morning to tend to a mysteriously cut finger, but she expertly repaired it with a touch of her wand. She made Albus drink a foul-tasting potion for blood loss, then insisted that he stay.

Albus didn't argue, and Madame Pomfrey sent for Neville to escort the other Gryffindors back to their Tower. Neville, of course, was almost beside himself over how Albus could have injured himself without even getting out of bed. Albus was about to tell him about his awful nightmare, wondering if he were even awake yet or not, when the potion took hold of him and he collapsed back onto the pillow with a groan.

_Bad dreams_, he told himself, _tha's it, bad dreams...I'll wake up and..._

"Albus, I thought you wanted a drink of water?" Scorpius was asking him, giving him a gentle shake.

Albus sat up and looked around. The room was sharp, which meant he was wearing his glasses. In the dim green light, he could see that he was in his bed again - in Slytherin House. He looked down at his green and silver sheets, and sure enough, there was Mauser.

"Why'd you get back in bed?" Scorpius asked.

"W-water, right," Albus nodded dumbly. "Scorpy, I had the worst dream!"

"I know," Scorpius agreed. "And watch out for Thunderhead next time - he's Charmed."

"Tell me about it," Albus groaned, which reminded him of his finger.

But as he looked at it, he saw that it was uninjured.

"Odd," Scorpius muttered, as they headed to the bathroom. "Perhaps Pritchard's Charm held over?"

"No more chocolate cake for dessert this late," Albus swore.

"Right," Scorpius agreed, "Oh, and Albie? Don't tell anyone about Thunderhead?"

"Only if you don't tell about Mauser?" Albus replied.

"Deal!"

**-O:---**

Draco Malfoy's colorless eyes were roaming over the dusty old dresser, its drawers all pulled halfway out with socks, pants, shirts, shorts and trousers hanging from their edges like executed criminals.

A little pair of dusty size five black leather shoes sat off to one side of the dresser, but the trainers were missing, as were the other expensive dress shoes.

"I think they were too small," he sighed again, picking up one of the little shoes and cradling it to his chest, stroking away the dust. "Should donate them, yes, some poor child could use you, no?" He asked the shoe.

But the shoe only said as much as the stuffed toy Hippogriff had.

"Perhaps," Draco started to say, but stopped as his eyes fell on the open steamer trunk near the foot of the bed. Made from the finest evergreen softwood (white cedar, or Lebanese? He couldn't recall...), and inlaid with tarnished silver trim and a heavy lock, the trunk sat - open - a hodgepodge of miscellaneous items stuffed in it as if someone had hastily packed it to leave in a great rush.

Or packed it back up, without caring, to send it home...

He glanced from the trunk to the dresser and back to the trunk.

He stood up, thinking to put away the clothes in the closet, the shoes with their others, to hang up the wrinkled and mildewed robes before they could wrinkle even worse. Such fine fabric, such custom tailoring, should not be left wadded up in a trunk that smelled of smoke and cinders and...

"**S - I - M**," the silver letters on the lid spelled out, as he suddenly slammed it shut. A cloud of black, sooty dust flew from the trunk, and he recalled again how the middle letter was not an "**I**", but an "**H**" that was half melted away from the blackened wood where a hole the size of his fist revealed the precious contents within.

Mouth agape, he stared as a small rivet finally gave way and the scorched, silver serpent fell off the clasp.

"Scorpius," Draco Malfoy then whimpered, clutching the mildewing and burnt robe to his chest, as a great sob escaped him and echoed throughout the deserted corridors of Malfoy Manor.

**"SCORPIUS!"** The agonized scream then followed it, loud enough to tear Draco out of the nightmare he was having.

**-O:---**

Miles away at Grimmauld Place, Harry Potter jerked violently awake and looked at the alarm clock. "Three in the morning," he muttered.

"What's wrong?" Ginny mumbled.

"I had the strangest dream," Harry whispered, "We were all at Kings Cross, but Dumbledore was there. He said he was looking for Scorpius, and that Albus couldn't come?"

**-O:---**

"Wha's wrong, Love?" Ron Weasley mumbled, as Hermione awoke with a strangled scream. "Wha's Hugo done now?"

"I...I had a Time Turner," Hermione gasped, "And Albus...Albus was hurt, and I...I was going to use it!"

Her reply was Ron's muffled snoring.

**-O:---**

The sight of the orderly and clean room brought it all back to him at once, and Draco slumped in relief. The clock on the dresser read three.

There were no clothes hanging out of the polished oak dresser, and the made-up bed was only wrinkled where he'd obviously passed out upon it the night before. The only thing that wasn't right was the sweat soaking the green silk pillowcase and comforter.

With a start, Draco snapped his head around to stare at the floor near the foot of the bed.

No blackened, ruined trunk.

Draco sniffed, and smelled a faint aroma of smoke. He gasped, but it was only the embers in the fireplace where Astoria had obviously lit a fire to ward off the chill.

He ran to the dresser, knocking the collected knick-knacks and other neatly assorted treasures out of the way as he fumbled through them, searching.

"No wand," he told himself, "Stupid!" He then looked further. "He took Thunderhead with him," Draco shook his head, "Silly thing, bloody Hippogriff," he mumbled to himself, as his eyes landed on the outgrown little shoes pushed back into the corner.

Dusty little black shoes that sat beside a very nice, very clean, Broomstick.

Draco knelt and picked up one of the shoes, clutching it to his heaving chest.

"Couldn't take his Broomstick, yes, stupid rule," he muttered, as he absently traced a finger through the dust on the shoe.

Draco froze.

_No_, he thought, fear gripping him again, _NO! It's TOO real! It's never been _this_ real before_!

But there was dust on the forgotten little shoe.

There was dust in Malfoy Manor.

...dust in Scorpius' room...

Behind him, an ember popped.

**"NO!"** Draco screamed, "It can't happen again! He's at Hogwarts! He's safe in my old room in Slytherin! They can't reach him there!" Draco continued to scream, until he felt someone grab him - until he felt a slight sense of comfort at the soft touch.

Until he turned around and stared into the beautiful blue eyes of his wife.

"I CAN'T GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN!" He shouted.

"Then don't drink anymore, dear."

"Uh-Astoria!" Draco gasped. "Sc-Scorpy?"

Astoria Malfoy smiled gently at her husband, then tentatively handed him a chilled glass. "You must be parched, Darling?" She asked. Draco grabbed the glass as if he had just been rescued from the desert, gulping the Calming Draught in one swallow.

"Scorpius is at Hogwarts, Draco. He left yesterday, remember?" She offered.

Draco's mind cleared at once.

"You're here," he said, sounding relieved, as he studied her face as if he'd only just met her and fallen like a smitten schoolboy. "Here, with me?"

"Where else would I be, silly?" She asked softly, holding out her hand and glancing at the shoe. "Oh, I thought we donated this pair?"

"We...we should," Draco nodded, reaching out to stroke the handle of the Broomstick as Astoria led him out of their son's room.

"Darling, it's getting worse," she offered, as gently as she could.

Astoria had learned, over the years, that she had to be extremely careful until she could get her husband out of Scorpius' bedroom. Only once, the first time, had she panicked at the sight of her husband when he'd been in such a state. Scorpius had gone to his grandparents' retreat in the South of Italy for a weekend, and, unprepared for the first episode that she'd _seen _him have, she'd ended up having to stun him to get him under control.

But Draco didn't make it out of the room.

Clutching at the Broomstick, he slid down the door casing to sit on the floor, bursting into a fit of rocking and sobbing as if his whole world had just ended. His tears fell into the twigs of the customized racing Broomstick, vanishing into them.

"They can't get him - not again," he tried to explain. "They won't hurt them this time!"

"Who?" Astoria begged, alarmed at the intensity of this episode and how he'd seemingly thrown off the Calming Draught's effects. She'd expected a bad one, what with Scorpius going away to School until Christmas, but the sight of her normally composed - even rigidly dignified - husband sobbing like a toddler frightened her.

She had never expected this.

"The two of them!" Draco hissed. "They were there, Astoria! Stalking us! Always stalking, always plotting! Wanting to get me for how things turned out! But I got _them_ first!"

"Draco, love, what _have_ you done?" Astoria asked, curious as this new track.

But Draco didn't reply.

Not at once.

"I killed them," Draco then informed her, as a child might announce that he'd just stolen biscuits from the kitchen.

Astoria blinked. While there were no secrets between them, and she knew that her husband was a former (if not failed) Death Eater, she also knew that he'd never managed to actually _kill_ anyone.

"Darling, _you_ didn't kill anyone," she reminded him, her mind racing at the look on his drawn face. _He should be sober by now, _she reminded herself. "Professor Snape killed Albus Dumbledore, remember? You were ordered to do it, but Snape had made the Unbreakable Vow with Narcissa? And it was a deal they made - remember? Dumbledore _wanted_ Severus to kill him! It was their plan, since he was already dying."

Draco blinked at her. "No, not _him_. I didn't kill _him_. Should have disarmed _them_, though," Draco shook his head. "Never should have _killed _them."

Astoria searched her memory for those that Draco knew who had died. "Do you mean Vincent, dear?" Astoria asked. "Draco, you know that Vincent Crabbe as good as killed _himself_ with that Fiendfyre. You had nothing to do with that!"

"You can't stop Potter," Draco told her seriously. "Neither one of them. Never could."

"Well then it's a good thing that Scorpius and Albus are safely at School, together in Slytherin, then," Astoria informed him.

"But don't you _see_?" Draco asked, getting to his feet and heading out of the room. Astoria breathed a sigh of relief. "_This_ is just how it started _before_!"

"Darling, let's get some breakfast, shall we? We'll go easy on you, but you need to eat after that binge last night. Now I've been tolerant, but this morning...this...this is just so unlike you!" Astoria held his arm firmly, as if she were afraid he might fall down the stairs. Draco gripped the banister with his other hand, not noticing how it wiped the dust away as he descended.

"I knew that the separation, letting Scorpy go to School after so many years of hiding, was going to be hardest on _you_, but..." Astoria began again, but Draco interrupted her.

"Ice cream," Draco muttered, blinking at the daylight coming in through the dining room windows and reflecting on the polished surface of the long table.

Astoria stopped at the mention of the two trigger words.

It was always those two words that signaled the end of one Draco's tirades, but not this time.

"They killed him, yes, they did!" Draco went on, the manic gleam back in his eyes, "But not this time! _They're_ dead, and that's _that_!" He said proudly.

"WHO?! For Merlin's sake_, who_, Draco?" Astoria snapped at him, having reached her limits on mollycoddling him in hopes that this too would pass. "Who killed whom?"

"Goyle and Zabini, Darling! Who did you think?" Draco replied, "They murdered my son on the train!" He nodded heartily.

Then he touched the tabletop, and his eyes drifted back to his wife. "Dust," Draco whispered, and too late, Astoria hid the pair of dusty little outgrown shoes behind her back.

Astoria gasped.

"Draco, you were there," she offered as a last resort to bring him around, "But you were interviewed? You were at Fortescue's the entire time?" She reasoned, her look of concern rapidly changing to one of fear. "They tested your wand - tested everyone's wand nearby! Harry Potter himself checked your wand!"

"My wand," Draco nodded seriously, as his face began to clear. "But not _my _wand. No, _that_ wand no longer exists."

Scorpius' outgrown shoes fell to the floor.

"Draco," Astoria said softly, backing up just a bit as she began to realize just what her husband was confessing, "Are you telling me that _you_ killed Gregory and Blaise that day in Diagon Alley - with a wand that _is_ - and _isn't_ - yours? And because they killed our son?"

And Draco Malfoy nodded.

_Merlin's beard_! Astoria thought. _He knows Scorpy is at Hogwarts right _now_!_

"But the Aurors - Potter would have found it! They cast the revealing spells!" Astoria disagreed. "Where is this wand, then?"

Draco looked around the spotless room as the Grandfather clock chimed the hour clearly.

"Turned to dust," he replied coldly. "Just like the remains of those traitors who murdered _my_ son! Just like _his_ wand. Just like I _should_ have been!"

Astoria then pulled her own wand, but Draco didn't move.

"Draco, I am calling Lucius, _right now_," she informed him, "Because you, my dear, are _not_ well, and you're scaring me!"

"Good idea," Draco agreed. "What are we having for breakfast this morning, Darling?" He then got up and went to find a quill and parchment. "Must write to the boys, yes! Congratulate them on making Slytherin!"

He then sat back down to write, absently brushing at the golden dust on his sleeve, and muttering, "Oh, no! Not again. _This_ time, I'll be ready!"


	4. Chapter 4 Confusion

** IV**

**Confusion **

"What's with them?" Albus asked Scorpius, as Zabini and Nott pushed past them on the stairs heading up to breakfast. Scorpius shrugged, then looked over his shoulder.

"Don't ask _me_," Mason Gamble offered, "They didn't say a dozen words to me all night."

"Welcome to Slytherin," Scorpius repeated, shaking his head a bit to get his long hair out from behind his collar.

Albus yawned, and it was contagious. He and Scorpius hadn't gotten much sleep on their first night at Hogwarts, but neither of them had yet spoken of it. The looks they'd exchanged, though, had let one another know that they were both very worried about it.

"Zabini's been a prat – well, he always was – a bigger prat now? Ever since his dad died, I mean," Scorpius said. "And Nott's dad was an outsider, even for Slytherin, when my dad was in school with him."

"What happened to Zabini's dad?" Gamble asked.

"Murdered," Scorpius looked over at Albus, as they entered the Great Hall. "Remember?"

"Murdered?" Gamble gasped, which got him a few odd looks.

Albus nodded. "We were getting ice cream in Diagon Alley," Albus informed him, "I think we were like five or six? Somebody killed _him_, _and_ Goyle's dad, right there in the alley next to Fortescue's!"

"Whoa!" Gamble breathed. "Who did it?"

"Nobody knows," Scorpius shook his head, as they sat down at the head of the table. Professor Urquhart gave them a curt little nod and went back to his newspaper.

"Knows what?" Zabini asked.

"Why you're such an ugly git?" Scorpius teased him.

Zabini, looking as if he weren't sure what to say, just sat there.

"You know, I'm not contagious or anything, and Scorpius was joking." Albus told him. "Your shirt won't turn red if you sit by me."

"Jus' don't make sense, you – here," Zabini finally said. Albus then told him about his own father, and how the Hat had let him decide on which House he'd rather be in.

"You _wanted _to be in Slytherin?" Nott spoke up, finally proving that he wasn't mute after all.

"Well, _yeah_? You see what it did to my brother, didn't you?" Albus smiled, gesturing at the Gryffindor table, where James was giving them something comparable to the "Evil Eye."

"Oh, OK," Zabini agreed coolly with a shrug, as the post owls began swooping in. The conversation seemed to be over.

Albus noticed that there was no owl for Gamble, but he was too excited about his own letter to worry about it.

_Dear Albus,_

_I suppose I shouldn't be too awfully surprised that you made Slytherin. Remember what I told you on the Platform?_

_Know that I am proud of you. I am sure you will make your House proud of you as well. Lily and your mother were a bit taken, and Teddy laughed until he was choking. Grandma Andromeda is thrilled and totally insufferable about it all! Grandma Weasley fainted. Speaking of, how are Uncle Neville and Hagrid?_

_Don't be getting any ideas that this gives you any kind of license to get in trouble, though! I don't want to hear about any pear-tickling or banana-stroking after curfew!_

_I hope you and Scorpy have a good time catching up. I know you've missed him. Tell him hello for me._

_Dad_

Meanwhile, Scorpius was busy with his own letter:

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Congratulations!_

_Your mother and I are so pleased that you made Slytherin. Your grandparents, of course, never had any doubts and send their love._

_I confess myself only somewhat surprised that your little friend, Albus, made Slytherin as well._

_You will recall, I'm sure, that I was not initially pleased with your determination to be friends with him. Things change, however, and I expect that you two will stick together and get into all sorts of mischief._

_In fact, I must insist upon it – stay close to him._

_Don't aggravate Salazar, either!_

_Love,_

_Dad_

"Wha's all that mean, playing with fruit and annoying a painting?" Albus asked, as they compared notes.

"I dunno," Scorpius replied, taking a drink of his juice and then abruptly spraying it out his nose as he choked.

Albus looked up to see Rose standing at the head of the table with a small box. "Mum said you left this at our place, Albus," she began. She then looked at Scorpius. "Pass that over? Try not to get it all sticky?"

Scorpius dropped his glass in his lap, much to the delight of the watching Gryffindors.

"'scuse me," the wet boy managed, "Grab my stuff, would you?" He asked of Albus.

"Whud-ja-do-that-for?" Albus blurted, grabbing up Scorpius' mail before it could get wet or lost, and shoving it in his pocket. He then wiped the dust from his fingers on his robe.

"_I _didn't do anything!" Rose countered, "It's not _my_ fault your friend is a klutz, now is it? And Mum says congratulations. Dad's ears are still a lovely shade of magenta, she says to tell you!"

Albus snorted.

"Are you _done_ yet?" Nott spoke up irritably.

Albus and Rose exchanged a look. The next thing that Nott knew, he found himself decorated with a bowl of scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Not too quick, are we?" Zabini finally smiled.

**-O:----**

As it was their first day, the students all got a short sampling of all of their classes.

Potions with Professor Urquhart was spent making a simple cure for boils, and everyone was amused when Eddie Creevey of Gryffindor managed to melt his cauldron by adding the porcupine quills too soon, thus earning him a good tongue-lashing from Rose, who had nearly been melted herself! Professor Urquhart thanked her for saving him the breath, and then promptly took five points from Gryffindor.

There wasn't any excitement in the rest of their classes, although Albus was left a bit confused by his 'Uncle' Neville's cool ignoring of Scorpius. Even when Scorpius held up his hand, which was promptly grabbed by a seedling Devil's Snare, Neville acted as if he didn't see him at all. It wasn't until Albus overdid a Reductor Curse on the pot (thus taking out the whole shelf) did Neville notice and put the both of them in detention.

"Thanks, awfully," Michael Oliphante of Hufflepuff offered, picking at the dragon dung fertilizer he'd been splattered with. The rest of the Hufflepuffs gave the Slytherins some nasty looks as well.

"Put that cannon of yours away!" Neville told Albus gruffly, as Albus made to clean off Oliphante. Neville did that himself, and took five points from Slytherin.

Their last short class of the day was the new brief introduction to Care of Magical Creatures, which would occupy one hour of their free Friday afternoons. One added bonus was that it would also be convenient for the scheduled tea with Hagrid just after class.

"Dad warned me about _him_," Scorpius fretted, as they made their way down to Hagrid's cabin, "But he does seem rather nice?"

"He is, and it'll be great fun!" Rose promised, which evoked some sighs and whispers from the entire class of First Years of all Houses.

"Gather 'round!" Hagrid bellowed at them all, "I know there's a lot o' yehs," he sneaked a wink at Albus and Rose. "Now, you won' be gettin' a lot o' homework from me – this is all 'hands on', and jus' a short trial-run class, ter see if it catches on."

"I'd like to run," Zabini mumbled, as they all began finding places to sit near the paddock out back.

"Mind that top rail," Hagrid warned Albus and a few others who'd decided to sit the fence. "Now, Magical Creatures comes in all shapes and sizes," Hagrid began, but he was interrupted by a loud squawk and the sound of beating wings.

Albus suddenly found himself flat on the ground, several meters from where he'd begun, being held down by a wickedly taloned foreleg, and covered in Hippogriff drool as Buckbeak licked him.

Most of the First Years scattered.

"Beaky, yeh shameless thing!" Hagrid shouted at him. "It's all righ', 's'OK," he assured the children, "He's just excited to see Albie, is all!"

The Slytherins snorted. "'Albie'," Nott snickered.

"Beaky, enough!" Albus squealed. "Down, boy!"

"Old and senile, he is," Hagrid whispered to Rose, who was still sitting the fence next to Scorpius. Hagrid gave him a look, but otherwise, ignored him. Scorpius sighed, but his attention was focused on the huge beast.

"I think he's beautiful," Scorpius breathed.

"He's also the one who tried to eat your father, remember? They sued, Beaky vanished, then they lost the appeal when they found out that he was really Witherwings?" Rose reminded him.

"Dad said he deserved it, though," Scorpius replied, as he jumped down and began moving closer. "Look at how his feathers shine!" Scorpius added, as Buckbeak noticed him. Albus got to his feet, wiping drool, and froze.

Buckbeak was confronting Scorpius.

Scorpius bowed low. "I bet he can out-fly the school brooms!" He whispered, seemingly unaware that he might be in any danger at all. "And his hindquarters' coat shines…"

"Back up," Hagrid said softly, "Beaky don't like the Malf-"

Then Buckbeak bowed, and promptly grabbed Scorpius with one forepaw and nuzzled at him. "You look like Thunderhead," Scorpius whispered to Buckbeak. "Only shinier!" Buckbeak made a soft little noise at him.

The rest of the class just stared and whispered, pointing.

Hagrid sat down on the ground in shock. When he'd recovered from his fright, he began lecturing. Buckbeak began interrupting from where he was standing protectively near Albus, Rose, and Scorpius. "Would YOU like ter teach the class, yeh silly brute?" Hagrid asked him. "Gone bloody mental, that one," Hagrid sighed.

"Ouch!" Albus yelped. Everyone looked at him. "Sorry? Think I got a splinter in my bum?" He offered, as he made to get up.

Something creaked.

"Mind that…" Hagrid lunged at him, but too late. The rail cracked, and Albus fell, whacking his head on the fencepost and breaking his glasses. He hit the ground in a puff of dust.

"I…I'm OK," Albus mumbled, as he felt those familiar hands crushing his ribs as he was picked up and brushed off. Actually, his head was splitting again, but he wasn't about to admit it.

Rose quickly repaired his specs. "Is Scorpius OK?" Albus asked.

"Why wouldn't I be, you nutter? I'm not _dumb_ enough to go _near_ that thing!" Scorpius drawled from the other side of the paddock, where he and the Slytherins, along with Baddock of Ravenclaw, were laughing at him.

But Baddock's robe bore a Slytherin crest.

"Al? Al? You're bleeding!" Eddie Creevey piped up, pointing at Albus' head.

Albus blinked at him, then looked from Eddie to Hagrid, to the other three boys near them with Rose.

"M-Michael?" He asked the black boy with braided hair and gold earrings – and a Gryffindor badge on his robe. Albus glanced down at himself.

His necktie was scarlet and gold.

"B-but…the dragon dung? Herb-b-bology? Hufflepuff?" Albus asked, as Hagrid picked him up and dismissed class. _Not again?_ Albus wondered. _Did I hit my head harder than I thought? __Merlin__, it hurts_!

"I'd be worryin' 'bout the Slytherins yeh sprayed with it, Albus," Michael informed him, "When Kyne here bumped that wild weed o' Longbottom's!"

Albus looked down at a frail boy with yellow eyes and blonde hair, dressed in a Gryffindor robe.

He had no idea who this Kyne-fellow was.

"Th-this isn't right!" Albus protested as he was carried into the hospital wing. "Scorpius petted Beaky, and he licked me, and…"

"Malfoy licked you?!" Rose blurted.

"No, Beaky!"

"Oh, hush!" Madame Iris Pomfrey ordered him, as she began examining his head. Once the wound was healing, she bandaged it. When she was finished, she ordered Albus into pyjamas and bed for observation.

"Same ones as last night," Albus groaned.

"What?" The Mediwitch asked, "_You_ weren't in here last night? The only child here was that Malfoy boy, whining about a splinter in his finger, as if his arm were falling off!"

"Albie," Hagrid said softly, "Don't you remember? Beaky died last year? That was Griffy we had today? Ol' Beaky was just old an' wore out, too hurt from when he got his wing busted in the War? You an' yer dad, an' James, an' Ron an' all, come ter help bury him?"

"No!" Albus exclaimed, "Beaky's fine! I fly on him all the time! He likes Scorpius, and he looks like Thunderhead, almost?"

"Who's that?" Hagrid asked. "And likes _Malfoy_? Nobody likes Malfoy, but fer them Slytherins o' his – not after his father pulled that sneaky takeover with the Gringotts' Goblins and bought out the Slug & Jiggers Apothecary chain?"

"I think our boy here hit his head harder than I thought," Madame Pomfrey observed, forcing a foul potion down Albus' throat. "Auntie Poppy warned me about these Potters!"

"What about us?" James demanded, as he burst through the door. "Is my little brother OK?" Then he spotted Albus and ran to him, grabbing him in a hug. "You can't be doin' stuff like this Albie," he choked, and Albus _**definitely**_ _knew _that something was very wrong when he saw tears in James' eyes. "Not after the broom thing an' St. Mungo's when you were nine an'…"

"James, let him rest," Madame Pomfrey interrupted, "He'll be fine. His arm is fine, and he's still got vision in his left eye. You're getting hysterical again," She warned him, "You'll have another attack."

And that was the last thing Albus heard before he fell asleep.

**-O:----**

While Albus and Scorpius were heading to their first classes that morning, Lucius Malfoy had just arrived at the Manor at his daughter-in-law's request.

"Now, tell me everything again?" Lucius asked. "Where is he now?"

"In the library, buried in books on things like Temporal Mechanics and Quantum Physics," Astoria replied.

"He had another episode, you said?"

Astoria nodded. "The worst one yet. He collapsed in Scorpy's room, and this morning, when he found a pair of outgrown shoes, he was became hysterical. He was insisting that Greg Goyle and Blaise Zabini had killed Scorpius."

"But then he wrote the boy a letter at breakfast?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, he Apparated his owl, Abaddon, straight to Hogwarts." Astoria paused. "Then he confessed that he was the one who'd killed them in Diagon Alley."

Lucius hung his cloak up and stopped. "You didn't mention that?"

"I didn't want to take the chance of being overheard," Astoria explained. "Even though he was right there? Even though Potter cleared him himself?"

Lucius nodded. "Potter _did _test his wand, yes. And there were plenty of witnesses. Draco was in line with the boys the entire time, to get ice cream," he almost shuddered. "I shouldn't be like this, after what Potter did for us after the War, but there's something about Albus that I have simply never liked."

"What?"

"I don't know." Lucius looked around the spotless room and offered his arm to Astoria. "Let's have tea in the parlor, shall we? I always liked the parlor," he offered, giving the shining dining room table a quick glance as they went past it.

"You were saying, about Albus?" Astoria asked, as she began conjuring and making tea.

"Why do you do it like that, when you could hire an elf?" Lucius asked, shaking his head. "Paying elves, no thanks to that Granger girl," he added. "Ah, well?"

"I like to," Astoria replied. "It keeps the hands and mind busy, with no time to be occupied by…other thoughts."

"Frankly, I was surprised to see Draco return here, after all those years on the move," Lucius admitted. "Granted, our name isn't what it used to be, despite our capital gains and donations," he sighed. "Not very many happy memories of this place." He looked around the room again. "I see Draco's been on another cleaning binge?"

Astoria nodded. "It's always about dust. Even a speck of it drives him mad, and he'll go on and on about Scorpius for hours. He just babbles, Lucius, and he makes no sense. It's as if he actually believes that he saw our son murdered."

"And he goes on about Potter, too? Albus, I mean?"

Astoria nodded again, aiming her wand and heating the tea. "He thinks Albus was here, and sometimes, he'll go looking for him. Lucius, the Potter boy hasn't been to Malfoy Manor since they were eight or nine years old?"

"Yes," Lucius agreed, taking a cup and adding a cube of sugar. He sipped it, and added another. "Draco Floo'd me to tell me that the boys had both made Slytherin House. He must have been excited, to resort to that foul way of communication?"

"He doesn't trust the Inter-Wand spells, you know," Astoria reminded him, "The one that Harry Potter devised, based on those Muggle contraptions? Celly-tones, are they?"

"Cellular telephones," Lucius corrected her. "And I must confess, Arthur Weasley may have been onto something in studying their curious, if not strange, inventions. I rather fancy the idea – it's such quick and clean communication."

Astoria laughed. "Now I _know _that the world has changed, when Lucius Malfoy thinks that Arthur Weasley had a good idea!"

"Yes," Lucius drawled lazily, "But back to Draco? How do you propose we confront him with it?"

Astoria thought for a moment, sipping at her tea. "I think if we can trigger another episode, which I don't want to do, or get him to talk about his studies, then he might try to explain it again while you're here?"

"I don't want to resort to setting him off," Lucius disagreed, "And I don't want to wait until he's been drinking again, either. Direct confrontation has always been how we've handled things, and I think it will work again in this case."

Astoria blinked at him.

"I am accustomed to Draco obeying my wishes," Lucius reminded her. "We are of a kind, you know." He finished his tea. "Shall we go and interrupt him?"

They found Draco in the library, his colorless eyes scanning the shelves for a particular title. Unaware that he was being watched, he mumbled to himself.

"Tempus…tempus fugit…'What To Do If You Meet Yourself'? No, no, not that one. No danger of that – he…I…just blinked out. Damn Granger…Weasley…whatever…why didn't she tell me before I left? How could she make a mistake like that? AH-HA!" Draco then exclaimed, pulling a thick volume entitled 'Tempus Creo/Fabrica – Formations of, and Studies in, Parallel Timelines'.

"Ah, yes, perhaps this is the case?" He asked himself, carefully placing the old but well-preserved book on his desk.

Draco sat down, opened the book to its first page, then sneezed as a puff of dust from the yellowed pages assaulted his face.

"No!" He breathed, looking down at the damp and moldering tome, its pages torn and many of them missing.

He jumped out of his chair and cried out as the glass then blew outwards of the large stained window to his left, allowing an icy autumn wind that was threatening winter to blow through the room. Torn pages scattered, and Draco jumped out of his chair, only to fall as his foot slipped on a ruined book on the floor.

To his right, he glanced up to see a bust of his Grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, crumbling into dust. He shivered as the wind blew through the room, almost as if it were blowing through him, and he raised his wand in panic.

But the wand was not smooth and polished.

It was dusty and neglected, and only a few sparks crackled at the tip when he waved it.

**"…WHEN MY BEST FRIEND WAS KILLED?!"** Draco then heard a voice – a child's voice – screaming through the corridors of Malfoy Manor once more.

Draco sank to his knees again, clutching at his head and beginning to rock back and forth as the desperation in that single cry tore at him. He thought of some tortured Phantom, trapped and unable to move on, screaming for someone – anyone – to help him. Calling out for anything that could assuage his pain…the pain of his very Existence.

"NO!" Draco screamed back at the disembodied voice, "You never came here! You had no reason to come here! I prevented it! I killed them for you!"

But the wind continued to howl, freezing him, blowing away the dust from the ruined library.

"Draco?" Lucius asked tentatively, "Are we interrupting, son?"

Draco froze.

Very slowly, he turned his head to the left to gaze at the sparkling and flawless stained glass window, where a very accurate green dragon was breathing yellow and orange flames across a bright spring landscape.

Draco glanced to his right, and there on his ornate and polished desk, next to the shining leather-bound book, was the bust of his Grandfather staring back at him.

He spun around, still clutching his wand, and beheld the rows and rows of rare and fine books that had been his companions since childhood.

"F-Father?" Draco asked, putting down his wand as his eyes cleared. He straightened his jacket, then approached them as if nothing at all were wrong.

"Draco?" Lucius asked, "What _was_ that little outburst I just witnessed?"

"You saw it too?" Draco asked anxiously, taking his father's hand and pulling him further into the room and gesturing at the window.

"Your Great-Grandfather had that window put in when Abraxas was just a toddler," Lucius replied. "Is there something wrong with it? A simple 'Reparo' in order, perhaps?"

But Draco caught the suspicion in his father's gaze. He dropped his hand, suddenly missing the warmth of it. Draco shivered. "You didn't hear it?"

"Only my son ranting like a lunatic," Lucius replied calmly, as he strode over to the desk and closed the book. "Draco, I wish to know of this obsession of yours with…'Parallel Timelines'?" Lucius asked in a detached manner. "This is highly classified information from the Ministry, son. I had forgotten about this volume. To even be in possession of it is a crime."

Draco looked up, past his father, and at his wife. He could see the concern on her face – but he could also see that she thought that he was indeed ill.

"You called him?" Draco asked her.

Astoria nodded.

"Father," Draco defended himself, "You have to listen to me. You _have_ to keep an open mind and listen to what I'm going to tell you!"

"Untidy," Lucius commented, as he reached out to brush a bit of dust off his son's shoulder. "But very well, as you know, I have always listened to you. I may not have always believed it, or agreed with it, but I have always listened, haven't I?"

"Yes, sir," Draco nodded.

"I believe there's still tea in the parlor? Shall we?" Lucius asked jovially. "Perhaps a biscuit or three?"

As they had a bit more refreshment, which Draco found that he desperately needed after neglecting lunch, he turned to his father.

"You know I've had…episodes?" He asked.

Lucius nodded, as if to say, "go on?"

"I think I've isolated the cause," Draco explained, "And for as mad as this will sound, Father, just hear me out?"

"Darling, nothing you can say right now is going to shock us," Astoria offered, as she refilled his tea.

"Thank you, I think?" Draco replied. "Poor dear, she's the one who's had to put up with me through all this. But it finally came to me this morning, while I was writing a letter to congratulate Scorpy on his Sorting. He and Albus, you see…"

"Wait a moment," Astoria interrupted him, "Why is it you were always so certain that the Potter boy would Sort with our son? Granted, they were friends, but the separation? You always seemed so sure, but when Scorpy's letter came, you were distraught and wanted Albus to Sort into Gryffindor? 'Where he belongs', I think you said?"

"Albus Potter in Slytherin," Lucius smiled. "There may be hope yet! I would imagine his Weasley relatives are beside themselves? Not that they aren't already, as many of them as there are?"

"You see, that's what you don't understand!" Draco replied excitedly, "Albus being in Slytherin is how it all started the _first _time!"

"I don't understand, son," Lucius interrupted, "What do you mean by 'the first time'?"

"When they murdered my son," Draco answered in a very quiet voice, averting his eyes, which had begun to fill again.

"Who, Draco?" Lucius implored him, leaning forward a bit, "_Who_ murdered my Grandson? Who murdered Scorpius?"

"Gregory Goyle and Blaise Zabini," Draco answered, lowering his head and hiding his face in his hands, dragging his fingers through his hair.

"_Those_ young men were murdered in Diagon Alley," Lucius reminded him. "And Astoria tells me that you seem to believe that _you_ killed them?"

"_I did_," Draco breathed, looking up with a manic gleam in his eyes.

"And _when _did they do this?" Lucius continued, as if he were nothing more than a psychiatrist taking notes.

"At the end of Albus' and Scorpius' First Year," Draco answered, "They attacked the Hogwarts Express at Kings Cross – blew the usual Slytherin car to bits!" Draco inhaled sharply, "But they made a _mistake,_ Father! They didn't count on Albus Potter having inherited that…that…_unkillable-_thing from his father, Harry!"

"Are you saying that Albus is _immortal_?" Astoria gasped.

"No," Draco shook his head, "No, I think they couldn't kill him for the same reason that the Dark Lord couldn't kill Harry Potter."

Astoria sighed. She'd heard this part before. Draco watched as she got up and left the room, and it tore at him.

_She does __not __believe me_, he thought.

"Which is?" Lucius pressed him.

"Because Albus gave up his life, or rather, tried to, to save his best friend," Draco nodded seriously.

"But you said Albus lived, and Scorpius didn't?" Lucius inquired further. "Draco," he shook his head, "I know that the birth of Scorpius changed your life. In all actuality, I never expected you to be a very good father. You have exceeded my wildest expectations in that area, but I must tell you, son, that I am very disturbed by this separation anxiety that seems to be at the core of your problem."

"F-Father?" Draco began, but Lucius held up his cane, light flashing from the silver serpent's head.

"Draco, listen to me – School is _not_ out; it has just _begun_. _Both_ boys are safely at Hogwarts, even as we speak. The train is _parked_ in Hogsmeade village, and it won't make the run back to Kings Cross _until_ the Christmas Holidays. If you don't believe this, then I would suggest that you call the School yourself and speak to Minerva McGonagall, or to Miles Urquhart, their Head of House."

"I _know_ that, Father!" Draco protested. Then his eyes went distant again. "Of course!" He breathed. "They would have had someone else in on the plan! In case something happened to them! We used to plan these things in sets of three, in case…remember? Just like Potter and Weasley and Granger always did!"

"Strategically sound, yes, but…?" Lucius prompted him.

"They won't wait until the end of Term to strike! Not _this_ time! Not like the _first_ time! They'll attack at Christmas when the boys come home! They'll have to stay at Hogwarts, then!"

And with that, Draco jumped up and ran back to the library.

"Lucius!" Astoria then called out, "Lucius, where's Draco?"

"Racing madly back to his book," Lucius shook his head, as he entered the dining room. "Why?"

He paused at the site of the lit Floo, where Astoria was taking a call.

"Grandfather! Grandfather!" Scorpius cried out, the outline of his little face raising the glowing embers. Then, in his excitement, he tumbled right out into the room in a cloud of ash and dust. He got up, brushed himself off, and immediately attached himself to Lucius' leg.

"Where's Daddy?" The boy demanded.

"Mr. Malfoy!" A lady's voice then called out, as Headmistress McGonagall followed him right on through. "What did I say about leaning in too far?"

"Yes?" Lucius asked.

"Not _you_!" McGonagall snapped at him. "Him!" She pointed at Scorpius. Then she blinked and coughed once, brushing herself off. Her hat had collapsed. "Oh, hello, Lucius," she greeted him. "Astoria," she took her hand. "Lovely to see you."

"Might I ask, Headmistress, what is going on here?" Lucius asked.

"It's Albie, Grandfather!" Scorpius whined, looking very upset. "He got hurt at Hagrid's, and now he don't know who I am!"

"Normally, I wouldn't allow this," McGonagall explained, "But Scorpius has worked himself up into such a state that he tried to steal a broom and fly home to tell you!"

"DADDY!" Scorpius yelled, taking off through the vast house and yelling at the top of his lungs. "Daddy! Come quick!"

"Hagrid," Lucius sighed. "Why am I _not _surprised?"

"Potter fell of the fence," McGonagall explained, "And hit his head."

"Well, I suppose that explains at least _one_ case of the mental illness everyone seems to be coming down with today?" Lucius observed.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Minerva asked, "Beg pardon?"

"My son, we believe, may be quite ill, Headmistress," Lucius confessed, "And it may also be possible that he's made Scorpy a bit, ahhh, paranoid as well?"

"Well, I'll leave the Floo open, shall I, Astoria?" McGonagall asked, "You can send him back when you've sorted this out?" And with that, she stepped into the fireplace and vanished in a roar of green flames.

"Daddy!" Scorpius found his father in the library.

"S-son?" Draco gasped in surprise, "How did you…? Never mind," he guessed from the soot on his son's face. "What are you doing here?" He asked, as he scooped the boy up and crushed him in a hug.

"It's Albus, Daddy," Scorpius informed him with a sniffle. "He fell down and hit his head, an' when Madame Pomfrey let me in to see him, he acted like I was his worse enemy, or something? He yelled an' screamed at me, an' threw his water pitcher at me!"

Draco wiped his son's face and nodded. "Tell me more? It's OK?"

Scorpius shook his head, trembling just a little, "I…I tried to remind him, since he hit his head an' all, about Mauser the snake, and Pritchard, and how he dumped the potatoes over Nott's head at the Welcome Feast? But he doesn't remember it, Daddy! He doesn't remember being Sorted with me in Slytherin! An'…and he said…he said," Scorpius coughed.

Draco conjured him a glass of water, taking him back to the desk to sit him on his lap.

"What did he say?" Draco prompted the boy.

"He said I shoved him out of the boat, in the Black Lake!" Scorpius exclaimed seriously, "And Hagrid put me in detention for it, an' that I called Rose – you know, his cousin?" Scorpius' face turned a bit pink, and he whispered in his father's ear, "He said I called her 'as good as a Mudblood'!"

"I cannot see my Grandson doing that," Lucius interrupted them.

"I…I _never_!" Scorpius protested, his face getting pinker by the second. "Not Rose!"

Lucius sighed heavily. Draco had a vision of Ron Weasley's ears turning red.

Then all the pink drained from the boy's face, and both men could see the fear in his eyes.

"What else did he say?" Draco asked.

"He…he said he was in…in _Gryffindor_?" Scorpius whispered. "An' his face…he looked like…? Daddy? I thought Albus was my best _friend_?"

"He is," Draco assured his son. "He is. He just hurt himself is all. He'll get better, you'll see."

But all of the color had fled from Draco's pinched face, and the light made him look suddenly years older.

Lucius, however, looked unconvinced. He strode over to the desk, loudly snapped the book on parallel timelines shut, then shoved it off onto the floor where it hit with a loud **WHUMP!**

A small puff of dust billowed out of its pages.

"_Draco_, what HAVE you _done_?" Lucius demanded, as if suddenly understanding it all as well as Draco did.

Draco pressed his own son's face into his shoulder, and one single tear rolled down his cheek as he clutched at the only thing left that even seemed real to him – the one thing that had literally made him move Heaven and Earth.

"Something terrible, Father," He answered, "Something that _NO ONE_ in our World may be able to undo!"


	5. Chapter 5 The Shattering

**V**

**The Shattering **

"Potter? Mr. Potter?" Albus could hear a voice calling, as he stretched and tried to wake up. His head still hurt terribly, and the last thing he wanted to do was get out of the nice, warm bed. "ALBUS!" The voice then yelled at him.

Albus sat up at once, whimpering in pain.

"Drink that," Madame Pomfrey informed him, "And you can go. I've cleared up the concussion, but you're healing very slowly for some reason. Have your Prefect replace that bandage after you've showered, and you can have breakfast."

"Pritchard?" Albus asked.

"Surely you know your own cousin, Dominique Weasley?" The Mediwitch asked, smiling.

"Dom's not a Prefect?" Albus wondered, as he went to get into his clothes, "He's not that smart?"

"Dominique is a GIRL!" Madame Pomfrey informed him, yanking the privacy curtain back and giving Albus a quick scan with her wand. "You must have really hit your head hard? Any other memory loss?" She demanded.

"HEY! I'm starkers here, do yeh mind?!" Albus blurted, face flaming red and covering his privates.

"Nothing I haven't seen before," Madame Pomfrey replied clinically. "Memory loss?" She reminded him.

"If I forgot, how would I know?" Albus smiled at her, hoping that she'd buy it so that he could further investigate what was happening around him. Having been raised in a family full of Aurors, some of it had rubbed off. That, and Albus wasn't the type to go running for help at the first sign of trouble. Life with James had taught him that lesson.

_Besides,_ he thought, _if I was to tell anyone this story, _who'd _believe me?_

He yanked his pants on, grabbed his trousers, and saw that his robe, shirt, and tie were still decked out in Gryffindor trim. Fully dressed, he wandered out of the Hospital Wing and realized that while he knew the way to Gryffindor Tower, he had no idea what the password would be.

He was rescued by Sir Nicholas on the next floor, who then led him to the portrait of the Fat Lady. Fortunately for Albus, the Fat Lady got all upset by the bandage on his head and went all to bits when he mentioned his head wound and memory loss. "Take him on in Nick, poor baby!" She sniffled.

Albus was immediately accosted by a very pretty girl that he didn't know - but he did recognize her badge.

"Dominique?" He asked softly.

"Oh, Albie!" She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. "You're so lucky! You should know better, after the accident, to not hit your head!"

"Erm, right," Albus mumbled, face flaming again at being hugged by a total (and totally gorgeous) stranger of a girl.

"Y-you don't remember me, do you?" She gasped, and Albus gave her a sad-puppy face and shook his head. "Do you know _anyone_?" She pressed him, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs to a door marked **"First Years - Enter at Your Own Risk!"**

"Eddie, Mikey, Kyne, me, and...?" Albus offered blankly.

"Tristan and Geoffrey," Dominique helped him. "And which one's the Werewolf?" She then quizzed him.

Albus' jaw dropped. "Me?" He asked blankly, raising an eyebrow at her.

Dominique looked as if she might cry. "I'm calling Grandma Molly!" She gasped, and off she went.

_Why does everyone around here get all loopy about me getting hurt?_ Albus wondered.

Slowly and deliberately, Albus entered the messy dorm room. _Pritchard would never have this_, Albus wondered, as he spotted the one empty bed next to Eddie Creevey. Even in his sleep, Eddie was moving and mumbling.

Albus went quietly to his bed, where he found a trunk with the initials "ASP" on the front. He got out some clean clothes, and found nothing missing. All of the textbooks he recognized were in his rucksack, and nothing else seemed out of place. If the decor had just been green and silver, he would have seemed right in place.

"Except for Scorpy," He whispered sadly, which seemed to jolt Eddie into consciousness at once.

"AL!" Eddie yelled, which roused the others.

Apparently, the idea of living with a werewolf, even for just one night so far, had them all a bit jumpy.

Only the boy that Albus remembered as 'Kyne' didn't stir. He remembered how frail the boy had seemed the day before, and he assumed that Kyne must be the werewolf. It gave him the shivers.

After having his hands shaken almost loose, being clapped on the back, and generally mauled by his roomies, Albus came to the conclusion that whoever - or whatever - version of Albus Potter lived in this "reality" (he was reluctant to even call it that, though) must have made fast friends of his peers.

"Wha's wrong with him?" He pointed at Kyne.

"Full moon last night," Eddie replied, talking quickly, "He won't wake up at all today, though. Maybe by dinner, but definitely tomorrow! Professor Weasley must'a brought him up real early this morning. She's good, didn't even hear her come in!" Eddie finished breathlessly.

The other boys rolled their eyes.

"You mean you don't _know_?" Michael Oliphante asked.

"Merlin!" One boy (either Tristan or Geoffrey) gasped, "He hit his bloomin' head, Mikey! He don't remember!"

The boys all looked at Albus, who nodded shyly. The boy was right - Albus didn't know them. As far he was concerned, 'Mikey' was a Hufflepuff that he'd just doused in dragon dung the day before.

Albus studied the two other boys. One had slightly almond-shaped eyes and straight dark brown hair. _Part_ _Asian,_ Albus knew, while the other was coffee-colored with long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. _Indian or Pakistani_, Albus realized. "Tristan?" Albus asked, and the part-Asian boy looked at him.

"OK, just checking," Albus confirmed.

"You don't know us, do you?" Geoffrey asked glumly.

"Sorry, no," Albus shook his head. "Eddie, who's Professor Weasley?"

"Merlin's pants, Al? You don't know yer own Auntie?" Eddie gasped. "Teaches Charms? What about yer Uncle Neville?" He added, "The Headmaster?"

Albus blinked.

"What happened to Professor McGonagall?" Albus asked dumbly, as they gathered up their things and headed to the communal showers.

"Retired?" Tristan shrugged, "Mum said she was never quite right again after the War?"

"Oh," Albus nodded, as they arrived to find the Second Years already there. "Your Mum is who?" Albus asked.

"Cho-Chang?" Tristan answered. "Cho-Chang Corner?" Albus nodded. He knew that name, though...

"Best wait, if you don't want a bar'a'soap up..." Eddie cautioned them, but too late.

"Albie!" James yelled, grabbing up a towel and nearly sliding into Albus as he ran to him. He grabbed him by the shoulders and started looking him over at once.

"Who'r YOU!? Geroff me, you nutter!" Albus squeaked, mocking amnesia this time, just to see what James would do. After all the torment he'd received at his brother's hands for all of his life, Albus couldn't pass up the chance for revenge.

The result was not at all what he expected.

James Potter froze, soap dripping in his face from his ginger hair. Whether from soap or emotion, Albus couldn't tell, but James was tearing up. Then his jaw dropped, lower lip quivering, as his face lost color.

"No, Albie, no!" James whimpered, shaking his head, "You can't forget _me_?" He gasped.

"Jimmy-boy," the boy that Albus knew to be Sean Finnigan said, as he came and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Breathe! It'll be OK. Al'll'member yehs in a few! Yer gonn'uh werk yerself into a seizure!" Sean drawled in his hard to understand Irish brogue. (It sounded like 'say-zhuuur!')"

"Right," James nodded, giving his little brother a longing look. Struck by his brother's totally unexpected reaction, much like Dominique's, Albus offered his hand. James held it for a long time.

**"Nargle!"** The blond boy who was still showering then yelled, diving for his wand and firing a jet of blue light over their heads. A shower of chips fell from the stone wall. James hit the floor, gasping.

"DAMNIT, Lysander!" Sean yelled, as the Second Years vacated the showers. "Don' _do_ tha'! Yeh _know_ how Jimmy-boy gets!"

As they were showering, Albus glanced over at Eddie. "Is Scorpius Malfoy still in Slytherin?" He asked.

"Where else would the slimy snake be?" Eddie almost spat. "Dunno why you care, seein' as how your Mum and Dad are pretty much payin' his way, what with what James' drugs cost?"

Albus remembered the comment about **Slug & Jiggers Apothecary**, and how Draco Malfoy now owned it. He wondered what was wrong with his brother in this - reality - but somehow, he didn't dare ask.

_Is it even reality, though_? Albus wondered, _Or am I dreaming? Or maybe under a Confundus Curse?_

But even though he wasn't sure, and admittedly a bit scared, Albus decided to go along with it - at least, until everything shifted again.

_That, or I'm just raving mad_? He wondered, as he dried off and got dressed and they headed to breakfast.

"So, what's with Kyne?" Albus was asking, as they headed down the stairs.

"Blimey, Albus!" Geoffrey replied, "You really are bad off! He got bit when he was nine!"

"Yeah, but thanks to your Godbrother Teddy's new, improved Wolfsbane Potion, he's pretty much a good dog...wolf," Eddie put in. "He has lessons with ol' McGonagall on Fridays, tryin' to learn to be an Animagus to control it, like Teddy does!"

_Teddy's a werewolf_? Albus wondered.

"Yeah, not like they have to hide him and lock him up in the Shrieking Shack, like they used to do werewolf kids," Tristan agreed. "Makes it a lot easier for him."

"Yes, now if they'd just neuter him and make sure he has all his shots," a cold voice added from the floor below, and the Gryffindors looked down to see some familiar faces.

Familiar - at least, to Albus.

Brock Zabini and Tommy Nott were there with Scorpius, along with a nervous-looking Mason Gamble and Martin Baddock.

Albus blinked.

"Hey? Does this mean we can call you 'Scarhead', too?" Scorpius laughed. "Scarhead-Two? Get it?" Scorpius laughed at his own joke. The others joined him, but it sounded forced.

"Blow it out yer arse, Malfoy," Tristan warned him.

"Or you'll do _what_?" Scorpius challenged him.

"Scorpius, can I talk to you?" Albus interrupted, hoping to avoid a confrontation.

"Why would I want to talk to _you_?" Scorpius asked, as the others all backed off. Albus could see Scorpius' hand itching towards his pocket. Albus rolled his eyes and decided to play a Slytherin card.

"Should'a expected that from someone like _you_," he countered, "When was it you _started_ talking? Six? Seven?" Even the Slytherins snickered.

"How _dare _you?" Scorpius breathed. "Fine, talk?" He conceded.

"Over there?" Albus gestured to a corner.

"Not a good idea, Malfoy," Zabini cut in.

"Look, I know I can't take you in a duel. I just wanna ask you something?" Albus almost begged, bluffing him. Scorpius seemed to like that and smiled. His hand stayed near his pocket, though.

Once they were alone, Albus looked into the hard face of his best friend. The blue eyes he remembered looked old, though - as if they'd seen too much for such a small boy.

"Scorp..." he began, but Scorpius' glare stopped him. "Malfoy," Albus conceded, "I hurt my head bad," he admitted. "I don't even know my...friends," he went on, "Or my own brother, or cousin, even."

"No great loss," Scorpius agreed, "Go on?" He said, interestedly. "Not that I care?"

Albus nodded. "Don't take this wrong, Malfoy, but...but I can tell you hate me, and I don't know why."

Scorpius looked thoughtful. "Must be bad, then, to forget _that_?"

Albus nodded again. "Look, I dunno what I did to you. But the way I remember things, you and me were tight. You're my best friend, an' if I'm mad, or this is some kind of spell someone put on me - I want you to know somethin' - I remember _you_. You're my best mate, and nothin' you can say or do is gonna make me hate you like I think you hate me now." Albus sniffled, which seemed to amuse Scorpius.

"You're pathetic, Potter," Scorpius sneered, turning to go.

"Scorpy, wait!" Albus blurted, and Scorpius spun around, drawing his wand.

"Only my _dad_ can call me _that_!" He warned Albus, "Don't you EVER, EVER! Call me that again! Where'd you hear it?"

And as Scorpius shoved his wand up under Albus' chin, Albus realized that there was no way that he was going to get through to the boy that he still considered as close as his own brother. Closer, perhaps.

Scorpius' rejection hurt worse than the throbbing in his head.

"I...I'm sorry," Albus whispered, "Malfoy. But for what it's worth, this is what I remember: We sat together on the train, with Rose. We had a good time, and we were good to you when no one else was. No one would let you sit in their car or boat, an' we did. You an' me, we Sorted Slytherin together, and Rose went into Gryffindor and _still _liked you. Zabini an' them, they wouldn't talk to either of us, so you, me, and Mauser stayed up late and wrote letters home. Pritchard let us go mail 'em, and we met Smith. We were both scared of Salazar Slytherin's picture, and we had nightmares the first night here."

"How do you know about Mauser?" Scorpius asked.

"Because I belong in Slytherin, with you," Albus answered sincerely. "And...an' I miss you. I dunno how to make you see how much this hurts?"

Scorpius turned away, but not before Albus saw a flicker of something on his face.

"Ice cream," Albus blurted, in a last-ditch effort to affect him.

Scorpius froze.

"That was a long time ago, Potter," He shook his head, as he stalked off towards the Great Hall.

Albus slid down the wall and just sat there until his Aunt Hermione found him.

"Albie?" She asked, "What's wrong? Are you quite all right?"

"No," Albus sighed, as she gave him a hand up. "This is all wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Gryffindor, Scorpius, James, my friends, everything!" Albus sighed again. "None of this is what I remember."

"Give it time, Albus," Hermione comforted him, and at least his Aunt's touch felt familiar.

"Auntie?" He asked, and Hermione smiled at him. "Is...is Rosie around?"

_ If anyone will listen to me and figure this out, Rosie will!_ Albus thought.

Hermione laughed. "Well, yes, silly!" She assured him, as they entered the Hall. Hermione pointed towards the Ravenclaw table, where Rose was busily chatting with Lorcan Scamander.

Rose Weasley was a Ravenclaw.

Albus' eyes went wide. "This is jus' _all_ buggered up!" He gasped, nodding.

**-o:-----**

Draco Malfoy sent Scorpius home later that night after repeatedly assuring him that Albus would be fine.

"He's going to need you right now, son," Draco had told him, "It might hurt, but you have to be strong, for his sake, OK?"

"If anyone can stir his memory, I am sure that you can," Lucius added, as Scorpius Floo'd back to the Castle, leaving them with a self-assured nod and smirk. "My grandson in a Floo," Lucius shuddered. "But he IS my Grandson!" Then he turned to Draco. "I see no reason to tell your mother about this," Lucius continued, gesturing for Draco to follow him back to the library.

Once they arrived, Lucius flicked his cane at a chair, sliding it up to the desk. He sat down and picked up the book.

Draco flinched, but no dust came from the pages as Lucius opened it.

"I, ahhh, _acquired _this from the Ministry during your Second Year," Lucius began, "The year that the Chamber of Secrets was opened. I didn't know why, you see, but before the Dark Lord vanished - when he tried to murder baby Harry Potter - he had left instructions with a few of us, that in the event the something should go - wrong - shall we say?" Lucius paused, refilling the water pitcher. "That we should study it, and also place his old school diary in the hands of a student."

"Ginny Weasley?" Draco recalled.

"Yes," Lucius went on, "You see, Miss Ginevra Weasley was the seventh child in a Pureblood family. Would that she'd been a boy, a seventh son, and things could have gone differently. We knew nothing of her then, since she wasn't even born yet, but logically, she was the best choice. However, I had no idea that the diary was a Horcrux, a cursed magical object, containing a part of the Dark Lord's soul." Lucius paused, taking a drink. He then turned the water to ice and summoned a bottle of Firewhiskey. He poured them both a glass.

"A what?" Draco asked, and Lucius explained what he knew of Horcruxes.

"It was then I began to have doubts," Lucius continued. When Dumbledore informed me that the attacks at the School were being carried out by the Dark Lord, in a non-physical form, and in possession of a student, I connected the two ideas - the near murder of Ginevra Weasley, and how the diary had nearly brought the Dark Lord back. Had I known what it was, I confess, I would have been more careful with it. But it was then that I began to realize that however much we all might have agreed with his theories, his methods, to your mother and I, were monstrous. I began to fear for _your_ safety, Draco, as well as the safety of all the Pureblood children. Yet Ginevra had the diary, and there was nothing I could do to get it back, when I realized what it truly was."

Draco stared at the stolen book, one hand gripping the desk as if he feared that everything might fall to ruin around him again. _What does this stolen book about time have to do with opening the Chamber, though_? He wondered.

Lucius poured himself another. "I spent your entire Third Year studying this volume," he gestured at the book, "Wondering why the Dark Lord wanted me to read it. It was difficult, to put it lightly," he admitted. "Complex spells, magic that I'd never known of before, along with incomprehensible Muggle theories on space and time. But when Harry Potter destroyed the diary, and I found out that Dobby had been spying on me, the plan became clear."

"V-Voldemort was planning on trying to go back in time, to kill Harry again?" Draco theorized.

Lucius shook his head.

"No. The books states a principle that 'no two particles in the same quantum state may exist in the same place at the same time.' It is called the Pauli Exclusion Principle."

Draco blinked. "Huh?"

"The Dark Lord was concerned with what might happen to his disembodied self, we would later find out in your Fourth Year, should the Horcrux-diary have restored him. In essence, it is very possible that he would have met himself. The results of that meeting could have been...calamitous," Lucius almost whispered, looking distracted, as if he didn't even see his son before him.

"Wh-what would happen if they did?" Draco dared ask, but already knowing the answer.

"Theory holds that several things might happen. The obvious is that the particles - or persons - would annihilate one another. However, matter cannot be destroyed. It also cannot be in two different places at the exact same time, as well. Muggle theory holds that if these principles were to be violated, somehow, and the two identical objects collide, that their meetings could well destroy the Universe in an explosion similar to the one that created it."

"And?" Draco breathed, knowing that this was not the case, since he was still there.

"One or the other, or both, might simply push each other out of existence in _that_ particular space and time, since only one can occupy it. However," Lucius held up his hand, as Draco made to interrupt, "matter cannot be destroyed, recall. It simply _must _exist, in another form, in a place where it _can_ exist. Such was the Dark Lord's conundrum - what if he and his restored form met, and could _not_ merge? What if they were separate entities, and came face to face? What if there were more than one Horcrux, and two were activated at once?"

Draco dropped his glass.

It shattered on the floor in a deafening explosion, and a puff of dust.

And in that instant, Draco Malfoy solved the problem of Lord Voldemort's question of restoring himself.

His face contorted, he bit his lower lip, and refused to open his eyes. In desperation, he grasped at his father's arm, finding it, and holding on as if he suddenly feared that the very floor might fall out from under him.

"G-Granger wanted to t-tell me something b-before I...I..." Draco tried to speak, but instead, he began to shiver.

The library was suddenly so cold, and he could hear rain falling against the window. A musty, moldering smell filled his nose, and his clothing suddenly felt rough and unpleasant, as if he'd not bathed in days.

But still, he clung to his father's arm as if drowning.

And he was.

Draco Malfoy was drowning.

Drowning in the damage that he done.

Drowning in the idea of what he was experiencing, and fearing who might be the one paying for his mistake.

"FATHER!" He finally screamed, but on the heels of that cry for help came another sound so horrible that he was amazed that a Human could even sound like that. Despite his panic, it gave him pause:

**"SCORPIUS!"**

** "NO!"** Draco screamed back at it, screamed at the voice, screamed at his very self, "He's at Hogwarts! I killed them, for you! I killed THEM, to save the boys! Why can't you leave me alone?"

But Draco now knew why, and the horror of it nearly stopped his heart.

Draco suddenly wished it _would_ stop his heart, knowing what was to come next, although not how or why, and wanting more than anything to be able to escape it.

But there was no escaping the next voice.

**"...WHEN MY BEST FRIEND WAS KILLED?!"** The voice of Albus Potter then tore through the crumbling Manor - again.

Draco coughed as the books all flew off the shelves in a choking cloud of dust and ripping pages. The window behind him blew out in a shower of green and orange glass, and somewhere below, a door slammed and began to bang on rusty hinges, over and over and over...

Yet through it all, Draco held tight to his father's arm.

It was his only anchor to sanity - perhaps even to Reality.

Then Draco opened his eyes.

The library was ruined, but yet Draco exhaled hard in relief.

Sitting at the desk, and looking as if he saw such inexplicable and unprovoked devastation all the time, was Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius then picked up a crackling, dusty old newspaper and looked at the front-page story:

**"SCORPIUS MALFOY MURDERED AT KINGS CROSS! -**

**ALBUS POTTER GRAVELY INJURED,****  
****NOT EXPECTED TO LIVE."**

"I ask again, Draco...son...what HAVE you _done_?" Lucius asked, more gently this time, as brushed the dust from his sleeve. More fell from the old newspaper as he looked around the devastated room.

"F-Father, I...I?" Draco fumbled, but the look on his father's face told him that which he was struggling to comprehend -

Lucius Malfoy already knew what his son had done.

He looked back at Draco, giving the newspaper a shake.

"The House of Malfoy has fallen...did fall...may yet fall...again?" Lucius stated softly. "Because the Heir was killed...will be killed...may yet be killed," He observed clinically. "Do not release my arm, Draco," He added, getting to his feet and urging his son towards the door.

"No!" Draco cried, "Father, I can't look at this again! Not the stairs! Don't go up there!" Draco was nearly screaming.

Lucius looked around for the missing banister, and gasped each time they passed an empty portrait's frame. Looking down, he could see that a great chandelier had fallen and crushed the dining room table.

"What I do not understand is _how_ you did this," Lucius told him, more than asked, once again. "I know that you have never studied Time, and that the Office of Time was destroyed in your Fifth Year, when Potter and his gang wrecked the Ministry." Lucius then stopped, holding a finger to lips to indicate quiet.

Up ahead, from one of the bedrooms, someone was crying.

Draco's head jerked up, and what precious little color he had left drained away.

It was a sound that Draco knew very well.

It was the sound of a man crying.

It was the sound of a man whose heart has broken, and who knows that it will never be whole again.

And then the crying was replaced by a scream, and Draco knew what one word he was about to hear before the crying man could ever suck in the breath for it:

**"ALBUS!"**

"Harry?" A woman's choked voice asked. "Harry, he's gone," she said softly.

Lucius looked hard at Draco. "Miss _Granger?"_ He whispered to Draco, his eyebrows going up.

"Oh, God, Albie!" Harry sobbed, and for the life of him, Draco expected to hear more emotion in his voice.

When Harry spoke again, Draco found out why he hadn't.

"How...how long do you think it will take him?" Harry was asking Hermione, "For D-Draco t-to...to undo all of this?"

The look that Lucius gave his son was deadly.

"Before _we_ cease to exist?" Hermione replied, as Lucius dragged Draco towards the door of Scorpius' bedroom.

But as they looked in, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley, holding hands and bowing over the dead body of a child, simply blinked out of existence.

Lucius and Draco gasped as one single tear escape the dead boy's left eye.

It was red.

"Blood!" Lucius breathed.

And then Albus Severus Potter simply was not there in the neat and clean, well-organized, sunny room that smelled of late summer flowers on a warm wind that was blowing through the open window.

Only a scattering of golden dust remained on the otherwise made-up bed.

And then even the dust was gone.

"Miss Granger was here?" Lucius said, louder, releasing his son. "And _now_ I know how you did it."

"F-Father...?" Draco attempted, but Lucius shushed him.

"Granger had the last Timeturner?" Lucius asked, and Draco could only nod dumbly.

Back in the library of their own pristine Malfoy Manor, Lucius poured them another drink.

"Father, I _had_ to do it," Draco tried to justify his actions.

"I am not faulting your motives, son, nor your plan at all," Lucius shook his head. "I now know that you are not mad, in the belief that you killed Goyle and Zabini, because that is exactly what you intended to do when you went back, was it not?"

Draco nodded.

"And so, with murder in your heart, and vengeance on your mind, you erased a whole possible future? Your own fully realized future?"

"Yes," Draco said firmly, his temper beginning to rise as he remembered Harry's anguished cry, and how he himself had made that very same sound in what seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Tell me every single detail of your trip, right up to the instant that you made contact with your alternate self," Lucius ordered him - and Draco did that.

"But then both of the wands that I...I killed them with...just vanished," Draco was saying, as Lucius cut him off.

"As did your alternate self? But not his _wand_?" Lucius guessed.

Again, Draco nodded.

"Give me your wand," Lucius said, looking confused as he gave it a wave.

Golden sparks flew from the end of the wand, and Lucius seemed to be studying them intently.

"How is this possible?" He gasped, flicking his cane at them and studying an illusion of a mathematical pattern that appeared in the air. Having never studied Arithmancy, Draco had no idea what it meant.

"It's my ... his wand, Father," Draco explained. "It's really _my_ wand, but from earlier in my life."

"True," Lucius agreed, "And from what I have just seen, I believe I can guess at what ails our young Albus, and is creating such grief for Scorpius."

"What?!" Draco literally begged, "What is it? What did I do wrong, Father? I didn't touch my other self! The Universe is still here in one piece!"

"Yes, my son, but are _YOU_?"

Draco paused.

"A child gave up his life for his best friend, whom he so dearly loved," Lucius explained, and Draco had to admit, it sounded very strange coming from his father. "He ran away from St. Mungo's, as you told me, knowing full well that the flight here would very probably cost him his life. All that, so that he could bring you his stolen Timeturner - all for the sake of saving his best friend's life. He put their fates in _your _hands, because he knew that he was too wounded to do it himself."

Lucius knocked another shot of whiskey back, harder this time.

"And you repaid him by committing not one, but _two_ murders - of two young men who had been _your _best boyhood friends?" Lucius seemed to be asking. "And you put an end to his very timeline, wiping not only him, but everything he knew and loved, out of existence."

"They as good as confessed!" Draco shouted at him, jumping up and spilling his drink. "They called the boys the same thing that Harry's evidence note said - _**'The Shame of Slytherin House'**_! THEY MURDERED MY SON! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

"Somehow, I do not think that you were supposed to orphan two other innocent boys in the process," Lucius replied, "And that you were so angry, so thirsty for revenge, that there was _no remorse_ in your heart when you committed this sin! There was a blinding love for Scorpius, yes, and that is understandable, damnit Draco!" Lucius sighed, "You didn't have to _kill_ them! You could have gone to the authorities, set them up - something sneaky, and they could have given themselves away later."

"How _dare_ you sit there and tell me that you wouldn't have done the _exact_ same thing?" Draco then demanded of his father. "Are you telling me that I should have gambled your Grandson's last chance at life, to people in power who had NO reason whatsoever to believe the disgraced son of a former high-profile Death Eater?"

Lucius bowed his head. "I would have killed them," He confessed, "And while I am proud of you, more than you can know, and grateful for what I now understand that you have done, I am not proud of these unforeseen consequences."

"Explain?" Draco seemed to challenge him. "Are you saying this is all connected? How? _How_ is this related to Albus' head injury, memory loss, and my own bouts of insanity? Which - by the way - I just now seemed to have dragged you into with me!"

"That wasn't insanity, that was a parallel timeline!" Lucius snapped back at him, picking up the stolen book and hurling it across the room. "Don't you see, Draco?" Lucius rounded on him, and Draco was surprised to see not anger - but fear - on his father's face.

"You went back in time! You stayed in _your_ timeline, repaired it, even - yes! But what you neglected to consider was another theory: that for everything than CAN occur, everything DOES occur - these things just occur in parallel timelines! Alternate Universes, according to that bloody book!"

"Rubbish!" Draco snorted.

"And in doing so," Lucius went on, seemingly nonplussed, "You not only destabilized _this_ timeline, but you also tore out the very foundation of an infinite number of parallel ones that were built on this one! When _ours_ was modified, it must have sent shock waves through all of these others, thus damaging - or even destroying them." Lucius sat back down at the desk and put his head down.

"You've tampered with the very fabric of Creation, Draco, and no one knows the full ramifications of combining Muggle research and theory with magic! Forget Pandora's Box, son," he groaned. "You have opened far more than that. In all likelihood, you may have just opened the very Gates of Hell!"

That got Draco's attention at once, as it actually made sense. The alternate version of Malfoy Manor they had just vacated surely seemed like Hell, Draco could testify.

"But Albus?" Draco asked.

"I think you've done more than destabilize one timeline, Draco," Lucius theorized. "In repaying that dying child's last wish with murder and blackness in your heart, you may have very well shattered your own Soul!"


	6. Chapter 6 Exclusions

**Reality Is Bleeding VI **  
** Exclusions **

As he ate breakfast, Albus couldn't help but gaze around the Great Hall. He was looking for familiar faces, of course, but he was surprised to see so many of them sitting where (or so Albus thought) they didn't belong. The most notable of these incongruities was the fact that Uncle Neville had replaced Professor McGonagall as Head of Hogwarts, to say nothing of the fact that Professor Urquhart of Slytherin seemed to giving him strange looks. That, and Albus didn't recognize half of the Staff.

That, and the bandage on his slowly healing head was something of a novelty which everyone felt the need to stare at.

Albus found that he had little appetite, and that he was rapidly losing his sudden fascination with the odd turn of events. Seeing Rose in Ravenclaw had been a jolt, but it had not been as big of a jolt as finding out that his best friend now seemed to hate him.

_Wish he'd tell me why_, Albus wondered, as he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Albus jumped.

"All right there, Al?" Rose asked from her seat just behind him and facing opposite.

Albus blinked at her and shook his head, which wasn't a good idea. He winked and tilted his head towards the doors, and Rose caught it at once.

They met up in the entrance hall, where Albus quickly pulled his cousin into a cupboard.

"Are you mad?" Rose demanded, as Albus lit his wand.

"Maybe," he answered, beginning to seriously think that he might well be. "Listen, Rosie, I know you like a good puzzle, or a mystery?"

Rose nodded. "Oh, don't tell me you think you're onto something already, Al?" She rolled her eyes, "Like when James came home from his First Year thinking that there was going to be a werewolf invasion – because Uncle Neville was seeding wolfsbane all over Greenhouse Three?"

"Humor me," Albus replied, "OK? And don't call me 'Al'?"

"Erm, OK?"

"At the Sorting," Albus asked, "Tell me how it went? How'd I get in Gryffindor, and you get in Ravenclaw?"

Rose gave him a withering look that spoke volumes. "It's just your head, Al…bus," she assured him, "After your accident a few years ago, you're lucky you aren't permanently brain damaged."

"Rosie, just…?" Albus repeated in frustration, "And what did I do to myself, then? Everyone gets all worked up over it, but – honestly! I haven't got a clue?"

"Madame Pomfrey said you'd have some memory loss," Rose mused, "Looks like she was right." When Albus didn't reply, she sighed and went on. "Fine, then! We'll go through it fast, so pay attention! I'm still hungry, you know."

That much, at least, Albus found accurate – Rose had inherited her father's ability to eat voraciously and not gain weight, as had her little brother Hugo.

"We got on the train, after daddy and Mr. Malfoy almost got into a fight. Uncle Harry had to break it up, and then you and Scorpius started going at it – with fists, not wands. Once we got you two settled, we were almost late getting on. We found a car in the back, with only one boy in it. Everywhere else was full up."

"Who?" Albus asked, knowing that she wasn't going to say "'Scorpius'."

"Albus, honestly! Kyne! Who do you think? No one wanted to sit with him because he's a werewolf, and we were only a couple days out from full moon. He told us to go away at first, but you were having none of that. You recognized his ears and eyes right off, and you told him all about Teddy and how you'd set him up for Animagus lessons with him. Then you bought candy, and Kyne was so overwhelmed that he just sat and cried." Rose looked thoughtful. "Stupid, if you ask me – this prejudice. He's perfectly safe with Teddy's new potion, and we're the only friends he's got."

"Nahhh, I think I got Eddie an' them bein' nice to him now," Albus theorized, remembering how they'd all talked about Kyne and seemed to feel sorry for him, Albus explained, "Now, the Sorting?"

_Merlin, I've gone totally mad,_ he fretted.

Rose huffed. "The Hat argued with me for a bit, but you know, Daddy really upset me with that joke about being disowned, and since Mum said she almost Sorted Ravenclaw, I thought, you know, why not?" Rose began to ramble. "So I said to the Hat, 'fine then, Ravenclaw it is'! And it did it. Daddy just had a fit, you know?"

"Sorry, no?" Albus replied. "Me?"

"Oh, it hardly hit your hair before it yelled 'Gryffindor!'" Rose answered proudly. "What did you expect? Surely not Ravenclaw with me? I mean, Merlin's beard, Al, you're not very bright?"

Albus flinched. He knew he wasn't all that sharp, but to be told that he wasn't 'very bright'?! By his own favorite cousin? That one hurt…

"Slytherin," Albus whispered.

"What?!" Rose squeaked.

"Slytherin," Albus repeated. "James teased me about it…"

"For all of about two seconds," Rose interrupted, "Then Aunt Ginny pretty much flayed the skin off his bum for it! He's never mentioned it again, either. Of course, it all set off an attack, and he was in bed for two days from it."

"OK, back up," Albus stopped her. "How'd I get hurt, and what's wrong with James?"

Rose actually looked taken aback. "You really forgot?" She breathed, placing a hand on his arm. "Oh, Al…bus, I'm so sorry! OK, you and James sneaked out to joyride your dad's old Firebolt when you were eight and nine. _You_ fell off during a roll, and busted your skull wide open. Literally! You were in surgery for something like sixteen hours," Rose informed him. "And the whole mess aggravated James so bad, what with him having LaTour's Syndrome, and all?"

"Wha's that?" Albus gasped. "Is it bad?"

The news that his brother was sick, perhaps even mentally ill – as Albus was beginning to suspect – was another huge shock to him.

Just then, however, the bell rang.

"Oh, Albus!" Rose snorted, "C'mon, you've got DADA with the Slytherins in five minutes, and Professor Finch-Fletchley will be raving if you're late! Go look it up later in the library. Remember where that is?"

Albus nodded glumly as they joined the throng of students in the corridors.

"Al!" Eddie shouted at him, and Albus saw him holding up his rucksack. Albus smiled wanly at him and nodded, mouthing his thanks._ OK, so now I'm 'Al'?_

They arrived in the DADA classroom that Albus recalled, and he expected to be bored out of his mind by Professor Jones again. Professor Finch-Fletchley, however, got things off to an exciting start when he appeared to be late, then burst through the door firing curses at everyone! When this left the students all hiding under their tables, or lying on the floor knocked half-silly, the professor got down to business.

"Dueling," Finch-Fletchley said, "Whether using complex spells of not. Recall that Harry Potter," he gave Albus a wink, "took down the Dark Lord with only 'Expelliarmus'?"

Albus heard some snickering from the back of the room, and part of it sounded familiar. He also didn't like being pointed out as the son of the man that many still viewed as the Savior of the Wizarding World, either._ So much for that changing … _he thought.

"How about a pair of volunteers?" Finch-Fletchley asked. Several hands went up, and Albus assumed it must be an exciting class after all.

_Or I'm asleep and dreaming all this in the dull class I remember, _he thought.

"How about…Potter and Malfoy?" Finch-Fletchley asked.

Albus froze. The Slytherins snickered again.

"Why, certainly, sir," Scorpius replied, as he got up and swaggered towards the front of the room.

"Go on! Go on!" Eddie was almost pushing Albus out of his seat. "Show him, _now!"_

"Sir?" Albus asked, as Finch-Fletchley got them into position, lecturing the whole time on posture, stance, and many other things, "I don't think this is…"

"Scared, Potter?" Scorpius sneered at him.

"Yes," Albus replied truthfully, feeling at the handle of his wand.

Scorpius laughed again. "Oh, c'mon? We're just going to disarm, aren't we sir?" He asked in a mockingly sweet tone.

Finch-Fletchley nodded.

But something inside of Albus was warning him, telling him that this was not a good idea at all. He had a head wound, wasn't really sure that he had only memory loss, and there was a strange prickling sensation coming from his wand as Finch-Fletchley got them into position.

"Disarm only," Finch-Fletchley reminded them, "I just want to see form! Albus is hurt, remember?"

_At least that matches up,_ Albus thought.

"Yes, sir!" Scorpius grinned.

"On the count of 'three'? Good! One, two…" Finch-Fletchley began, but both boys interrupted him.

**"AVERTE STATEM!"** Scorpius yelled, which Albus immediately knew to counter with **"PROTEGO!" **

The spells collided halfway between the two boys, but instead of one overpowering the other, it seemed that they had deadlocked. Golden sparks were flying from the collision of spells, and jets of golden light poured out of both of their wands like Muggle hosetaps.

Then something akin to what could only be called a nightmare began to form up between them.

Standing in the center of the light was what seemed to be the Ghosts of two children – young boys, not more than First Years.

As Albus and Scorpius both struggled with their wands, each unable to pull back, and neither able to overpower the other, the two Ghosts turned to face the living boys.

Albus was confronted by a Ghostly Scorpius (who seemed to be on fire), as was Scorpius confronted by a Ghostly (and severely maimed) Albus.

Several of the students screamed and fled the room, so horrific was the vision between the two of them. Finch-Fletchley was pale and trembling as he shouted **"FINITE!",** which had no effect at all.

"No," both of the Ghost-boys then said in unison, and both Albus and Scorpius saw a single blood-red tear fall from the Ghostly Albus' empty left eye socket.

The spell dissipated, and the Ghosts vanished, throwing both boys backwards to land on the floor in a heap.

"Wh-what…?" Scorpius gasped, staring at Albus in genuine terror.

"Scorp-…Malfoy?" Albus attempted, but Scorpius was on his feet and fleeing with the rest of the class.

The room had gone very cold, Albus then noticed he could see his breath, and the only trace of their duel was a scattering of golden dust on the floor.

"P-Potter?" Finch-Fletchley asked, as he gave Albus a hand up. Albus saw that his face was pale, and that the man was shaking.

"Sir, I don't know?" Albus blurted, "I just wanted to protect…"

And then Albus remembered his nightmare – the one he'd had on his first night in the Castle, when he'd been so happy to have been Sorted into Slytherin with Scorpius:

Heat, fire, the feeling of burning…and then the absence of pain altogether. The Sorting Hat was yelling at him, someone was shouting at him as well, and there was fire…

"So much fire," Albus breathed, as he stared at the golden dust on the floor.

Then Albus sneezed. The exertion of magic had given him a nosebleed, and his head was throbbing again.

"Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey," the Professor suggested, catching Albus just in time as he fainted. The Professor sneezed at the puff of dust from Albus' robe.

**-O:------**

"All you're going to do is disarm each other, got that?" Professor Jones told the two boys in Slytherin robes standing at the front of the room.

"C'mon, Albie," Scorpius whispered, "It'll be fun!"

"I…I don't think so, Malfoy," Albus replied, feeling at the bandage on his head and wondering if his head had healed up anymore or not. It hurt so bad that all Albus wanted to do was go back to Madame Pomfrey and try to have her heal it again, instead of waiting.

"I wish you wouldn't call me by my last name," Scorpius sighed, remembering his father's words to be patient with his friend.

Ever since hitting his head on the fencepost at Hagrid's, Albus had been acting strange. He didn't seem to know, much less trust, his best friend. That, and he seemed afraid of everything. Hearing about Mauser the snake in his bed had totally terrified him, and since he refused to set foot in the Slytherin Chambers, Scorpius had been forced to fetch his things for class.

That, and Albus was insisting that he had Sorted into Gryffindor, even though Zabini and the others finally began trying to convince him that he was indeed a Slytherin and belonged with them. Nott had even admitted that Albus' bizarre behavior was beginning to frighten him, and that their roomie needed serious psychiatric help.

"Barking mad, that one," Gamble was forced to agree, when Albus had confronted his brother at breakfast and received an icy reception that had reduced Albus to tears right there in front of everyone. It had taken Victoire the rest of breakfast to settle him down, but as class had begun, Albus seemed to be coming unwound again.

"Trust me, Albie?" Scorpius whispered to him, and Albus had to admit, there was something in his voice that reassured him, despite the fact that they'd hated one another since they were little and had gotten into a fistfight on the Platform.

"On 'three'," Jones reminded them, and when he hit 'three', both boys said, "Expelliarmus!"

What happened was something that neither of them expected.

Two jets of golden light erupted from their wands, and the squawk of a very happy Hippogriff filled the air. Where the jets of lights collided, what seemed to be the Ghost of a child formed up and glanced at both of them. Then the Ghost raised his hands, seeming to catch fire, and both wands flew into the air.

Albus caught Scorpius' wand, and Scorpius caught Albus'.

Jones looked shocked.

"Whoa!" Scorpius breathed.

Albus screamed and dropped Scorpius' wand.

**-O:-----**

Miles away at Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy was jolted out of his unplanned nap by the screams of children.

He'd not had much sleep the night before, his mind far too heavy with what his father had told him. And while he admitted that he didn't understand much of it, Draco somehow knew that his father had been right.

He felt … incomplete.

Lost.

But as he sat up at his desk in the library, having made not much headway on the book about time, he heard what sounded like a choir of young boys.

Only they weren't singing.

They were shouting spells.

"No!" Draco gasped, suddenly terrified, "No! They mustn't fight!"

He wasn't sure why he'd had that idea, but on some instinctual level, he knew that he was right. The idea of the boys fighting made his flesh creep, and he felt the temperature of the room fall as he glanced to the old newspaper that Lucius had left on the desk.

It was proof to Draco that he was not mad, and that he had indeed altered the flow of Time.

"Shattered it," He reminded himself, wondering how to connect what he still considered his repair of an improper Timeline with Albus' recent odd behavior.

As the voices fell silent, Draco looked around the room, relieved to see that it had not fallen into ruin again. He sighed as what he considered to be real held together for him – not dissolving away into a cold Hell of broken furniture, abandoned corridors, and dusty silences.

He looked down at the book again, trying to remember where he'd left off.

_"While no one has ever been able to prove it,"_ he read, _"It follows logically that when a Timeline is altered, then all subsequent Parallel Timelines which have sprung from said Timeline must be either altered as well – or destroyed."_

"Makes sense," Draco nodded, envisioning a collapsing house that had had its cornerstone pulled out.

_"There is one related mystery, however, which has yet to be solved. On very few occasions, objects have been discovered that do not seem to belong in our Universe. Magic carries a unique signature, as does matter, that can be tested and even viewed with a complex 'Revello' spell_."

Draco turned the page.

There was a moving picture of the same mathematical symbol that Lucius had produced when he'd analyzed the newspaper and Draco's wand. Draco recalled the 'signature' of his wand, and compared it to the next image, which the book labeled as "normal".

The signature of his wand was perfectly identical.

"Of course it would be," he said to himself, "It's just an older version of the wand that I _should_ have – did have."

The signature of the newspaper, however, was totally different.

"Because it does _not_ belong here," Draco reasoned, "It was wiped out of existence by my actions."

The hairs on Draco's nape then stood up.

'"Daddy, it's like he's not _**my**_ Albus,"' Scorpius had told them the evening before, '"It's like he's someone else, or he came from another planet?"'

Draco stared at the newspaper.

"Because _this_ Albus does _not _belong here!" Draco gasped, flipping to the index of the book and searching for 'The Pauli Exclusion Principle' again.

_"It has been especially fascinating, in the study of Time Itself, via the Timeturner,_" Draco read, "_That bizarre events have taken place. For instance, some members of the Department of Mysteries who went back in time never returned. Their Timeturner rematerialized, right as it should have, as Time caught up with it when it had done its job. The people, however, were never seen again. Is it possible that their actions, during their sojourn in the Past, somehow wiped them out of Existence via their own actions?_

_It is also possible that said persons met themselves, and in magically violating the Pauli Exclusion Principle, did one of two things – annihilated one another, OR, as was with the case of Heinrich Van der Schnitten, came back totally confused and disoriented, with no idea of why he was here and how he might return to a state that seemed "real" to him?_

_(Note – Van der Schnitten spent the rest of his days in St. Mungo's, insisting that everything about the world around him was not as it should have been. He was eventually diagnosed as having gone insane from traveling in Time.)_

_It is also interesting to note that the magical signature of the man himself, as well as his clothing and wand, were totally different than what we observe on a day-to-day basis. We can only assume that traveling in Time is damaging to one's magic, and should only be attempted for very short trips, no more a few hours, and/or in need of dire emergency. It is also due to these observations (see appendices), that one should NEVER – under any circumstances – so much as come within visual range of his or her counterpart. No one wants to test the theory of whether or not the Universe... _

Draco felt as if his extremities had gone numb.

"I saw myself," he whispered, "From the back! I saw him…saw me…blink out of existence!"

Then another thought came on the heels of that one, and it was something that Draco found so horrible that he could hardly fathom it.

"What if I pushed him/me into Nonexistence?" Draco wondered. "Not like Albus, if that's even _his_ case," he began to ramble to himself, trying to sort it all out, "Then did I murder him? Me? Would that be suicide, or murder? But what if I pushed him into another … Reality? Timeline? Excluded him, somehow?

"No, no," he reasoned it out, "If that were the case, why would he drop his wand? This wand?" He studied his wand. "The wand stayed, he left, but didn't Granger say that I would be the one to go? What did Potter call it? A Paradox? How does _he_ bloody know?" Draco growled in irritation.

"And why Albus?" He yelled at the stained glass dragon. "Granger said that _I'd_…"

Draco paused again.

"She said that _I_ would blink out of existence!"

Draco sat down, hard. He poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink.

The dragon said nothing at all.

But at least it was intact.

That was something.

"Why is Albus the one paying for this, then?" Draco snarled, "When _I'm_ the one who _doesn't_ belong here?"

"Darling?" Astoria interrupted him, "I know that Lucius said not to disturb you?"

"No, no, it's fine, Dear, what is it?" Draco replied, looking very relieved to see her.

"There's been a disturbing incident at the School, Draco," Astoria informed him. "Minerva would like it if you came at once?"

"Scorpy?" Draco gasped.

"He's fine," Astoria shook her head, "It's Albus that's having problems. He's quite ill, and Harry Potter has asked to her to summon you?"

"Inform them that I'll Apparate to the front gates at once," Draco replied with a curt nod, summoning his traveling cloak and turning on the spot to vanish.

Apparating didn't normally bother Draco. The feeling of being shoved into a dark bottle with a very narrow neck was troublesome, but Draco also knew that it was normal and would end soon enough.

This time, however, as he passed through the Ether, it seemed to be taking too long. The feeling of compression was simply not there, and Draco felt as if he were not alone.

"I have to find him," he heard himself saying, "I have to find _them_. Draco?" His own voice called out, longingly, "Have you seen Albus and Scorpius, Draco?"

"WHO'S THIS?!" Draco demanded, looking all around at the darkness.

"Draco," Draco heard himself answering. "Draco, what have _**you**_done?"

"What have _**I**_ done?" Draco answered, feeling his heart hammering in his chest.

"What have _**we**_ done, Draco?" The voice that was his own asked again, and then Draco fell forward into the light, nearly crushing his nose on the front gates of Hogwarts.

The voice then trailed off, as Draco looked up to see Professor McGonagall coming quickly down the way to let him in. She moved with an intent and speed that belied her age, and Draco felt another chill.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him primly. "Please follow me? Harry's already here, and Scorpius is desperate to see you."

In the Hospital Wing, Draco found his son in an exam gown, sitting up on a table, while Madame Iris Pomfrey blanketed him in magical scan after scan.

"Perfectly normal, except for one small…blip…I've never seen before," she admitted. "It's as if his magic is just infinitely and ever so slightly out of phase with what we call normal?" She observed. Then she spotted Draco. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy?"

"DADDY!" Scorpius shouted, jumping down and running to him. Draco grabbed him up in a hug, swallowing a lump that had risen in his throat, and almost burst into tears when Madame Pomfrey asked that he put him down.

"Daddy, it's Albie," Scorpius whispered, taking his father's hand. "Mr. Potter just got here, but…but…" Scorpius hesitated. "Daddy, I swear I _didn't_! All I did was try to disarm him, like Professor Jones said?"

"What's wrong with Albus?" Draco asked, trying to keep a cool demeanor and only just succeeding.

"A great deal, Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey replied, "And for the life of me, I don't know why! I've been that boy's pediatrician since I delivered both him and Scorpius, and there is _no_ record at all of the injuries this boy has sustained!"

"It wasn't me, Daddy!" Scorpius interjected again.

"No, it wasn't," the Mediwitch assured him, "But at some point in time, Albus Potter there," she gestured at his bed, where an unconscious Albus was surrounded by magical illusions that were monitoring his life signs, "was critically injured. He has traces of massive, long-healed skull trauma, brain damage, internal bleeding, and some facial-cranial reconstruction surgery, to say nothing of the repaired damage to his legs!"

"Meaning?" Harry then spoke up, as he came out from behind a screen.

"If I had to guess? He fell – a long way down – probably from a broomstick, and landed on his head," the Mediwitch theorized.

"But Albus has never been badly hurt?" Harry protested, turning to Draco. "Was he ever hurt at your place, when they were little, and you didn't report it?" Harry asked, but strangely, not in an accusatory tone.

"No," Both Draco and Scorpius replied honestly.

"Harry," Draco surprised him by using his first name, "After all we went through to put these boys together way back when? Trust me, Harry – Albie meant so much to my son, and he was around so much, that I kind of tend to think of him as…as…not _quite _our own, but…?" Draco offered, surprising even himself with his admission of how he felt about Albus.

_And I've missed him_, Draco admitted to himself.

"Really? You like him _that _much?" Scorpius beamed at his father.

Draco nodded.

"Damned if I know why," Draco admitted, wondering how close to right he really was.

"'Albie'?" Harry repeated, as if that nickname were somehow proof positive of Draco's words.

"Potter, I'll be blunt," Madame Pomfrey offered. "That boy," she pointed at Albus, "Is dying, and damned if I know why! There's no reason for it, even with his past trauma. He's physically fine, but," she went on, adjusting her readouts, "It's as if his magical constitution is somehow breaking down. When I scanned him, I got a very odd reading, as well. It's as if Albus has magic that is not in tune with our own? The signature is totally alien to ours."

"As if he doesn't belong here," Draco mumbled, not surprised at all as Madame Pomfrey proved his guess.

Harry looked sharply at him.

"I told he was from another planet," Scorpius reminded them. "He's too weird!"

"It fits," Draco reasoned, thinking of seeing that other version of himself blink out of existence. "But I still don't know why it would be Albus."

"Why 'what' would be Albus?" Harry asked.

Just then, Albus' vitals began to crash as alarms began to go off.

"Albus!" Harry shouted, and once again, Draco heard that agonized scream that had torn through that other ruined, dusty version of Malfoy Manor.

**"ALBUS!" **

"'Have you seen them?'" Draco then remembered hearing, only minutes before.

Draco pulled his son's face into his chest, turning him away, as Madame Pomfrey struggled to stabilize Albus. Yet no matter what she did, the boy's vitals continued to fall.

The temperature of the room plunged, and Draco felt eyes upon him.

He turned to the doorway, and his eyes went wide as he saw the Bloody Baron standing there – and holding the hand of a Ghostly child:

Albus Potter.

Draco blinked. "Harry!" He gasped, pointing, and Harry turned.

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, as he saw the Baron.

"Got it!" Madame Pomfrey then exclaimed in triumph, as Albus began to stabilize again. Scorpius slumped, nearly fainting, and Draco caught him.

The child standing there with the Baron then seemed to go up in translucent flames, his left side dissolving away, as a single tear of blood ran down his ruined cheek.

Then he was gone.

"What the bloody hell was all that?" Harry demanded of Draco.

"That, Harry," Draco replied calmly, "Was the Ghost of your son," he pointed at Albus.

"But he's alive, you silly git?" Harry retorted, waving his hand at his son.

"No, he's not," Draco countered. "Didn't you see it? That Albus-Ghost with the Baron was too tall, and he was showing injuries in Death that Albus has not experienced in Life – yet." Draco explained.

"Gentlemen, if I may?" the Baron spoke up, and everyone froze.

It was the first time that anyone had ever heard the Bloody Baron speak to them.

"That boy," The Baron pointed at Albus, "Is dead."

"What?!" Harry began to argue, "He is _not_?"

"He _is_," the Baron repeated. "But the boy in the that bed before you is not_ your_ son."

"Explain?" Harry asked clinically, as his Auror's training took over.

"I cannot," the Baron conceded. "All I know is that I have met young Albus Severus Potter, and a more noble child I have never known in all my _Time_," he stressed the last word, as if personifying it.

Then he turned to Draco.

"Albus wants to know one thing, Malfoy," the Baron informed him.

Draco blanched.

Harry saw it.

"He wants to know _why_ They all turned to look at him, and just as the wound on his forehead finally closed, Albus vanished into a cloud of golden dust.?" The Baron asked, just as Albus moaned in his sleep.

"Merlin, no!" Draco breathed, as Scorpius began to shiver and clutched at him.

Then, before the dust could even settle, Albus reappeared.

"That is not your son, either," The Baron repeated to Harry, and then he flickered and vanished.

"Polyjuice?" Harry wondered aloud.

"No trace residuals," Madame Pomfrey replied, blowing the dust off the blanket.

Albus stirred, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. Then he looked over and saw Draco, seemed to recognize him (scared, Draco noted), and then saw Harry.

"Dad!" Albus gasped, seeming surprised. "What'r you doing here? Is James OK?"

"James?" Harry asked, "Yes, he's fine, why?" Harry agreed, slipping them a wink that said, _'Let's humor him'_.

Draco caught it, but he already knew from the greeting that this wasn't the Albus that they knew. And Draco realized something else as well – Harry hadn't seen the dust.

The sight of his son vanishing, then reappearing, should have at least appealed to the Auror in him – and it hadn't. Apparently, only Draco had seen it, and that chilled him further; more so than Albus looking frightened of him. To the rest of them, only Albus' demeanor had changed.

"Albie, are you OK?" Harry asked the boy, his face a study in concern.

"Just a paper cut? Why am I here?" Albus asked.

"Albie?" Scorpius prompted him.

"Oh!" Albus exclaimed, noticing Scorpius' exam gown, "Scorpy, why'r you here?"

"Because of the duel, and you fainting?" Scorpius replied, sounding worried.

"What duel?" Albus laughed again. "Can I go now? I feel fine, Ma'am?" He asked.

"Albus, what House are you in?" Scorpius asked seriously.

"Hufflepuff, with you an' Rosie, why?" Albus replied with a grin. "Wha's the joke?"

Harry hung his head and sighed, interrupting Albus. Then he took the boy in his arms and hugged him.

"It'll be OK, son. Dad's gonna get you the help you need."

_Oh, no you won't_, Draco fretted._ Because the damn dust just Excluded _this last _Alternate-Gryffindor-Albus, and only Merlin knows where our_ real_ one has…'dusted'…off to when this one replaced him!_

"Daddy?" Scorpius whined, and Draco had the mad urge to tell him that 'Malfoys do not whine!'

"Harry, I believe I know what's going on here," Draco confessed. "And we're going to need Granger…Mrs. Weasley…Ron's wife? Yes, her! To sort this out – if we can."


	7. Chapter 7 Further Down the Rabbit Hole

**VII**

**Further Down the Rabbit Hole**

_**Firstly, credit where it is due**__**:**_

Thanks to SlyOne at Mugglenet (Bartemius Crotchety of ) for letting me borrow his Hufflepuff Universe for the first part of this story. If you've not read his "Year of the Badger" novel, and "Black Badger Society," look him up and do that! You'll be glad you read about the adventures of the Tenacious Trio in Hufflepuff.

Thanks as well to gnilworkj oh HPFF and Gluttonyfiction dot com, for letting me borrow her "future" Dramione plot from "The Redemption of Malfoy".

Orion, however, is my own OC.

_**And now, on with the continuing adventures of a semi-mad Albus**_**:**

When Albus woke up again, he found himself back in Hospital. With a sigh, he closed his eyes again and tried to force himself to go back to sleep.

_If it happens again, I don't think I can handle it,_ Albus fretted, the intrigue having worn off after the ordeal with the wands. _What the hell's wrong with me? Am I really going mad?_

"Honestly, Potter," Madame Pomfrey interrupted him, "I've never seen a paper cut bleed so badly?" Then she took another look at him. "Where did that bandage on your head come from?"

Albus just stared at her, his eyes wide.

Madame Pomfrey, while she looked familiar, was far too old and looked like a Grandmother.

"Wh-what happened to you?" Albus gasped._ Don't tell me I've wound up in the FUTURE?!_

"Me?" Madame Poppy Pomfrey asked, smiling. "You're the one who almost gave poor Cormac fits when you fainted!"

"Erm, who's Cormac?" Albus dreaded asking, thinking, _OK, this really isn't fun anymore!_

"I am!" A very short little boy with flaming orange hair and freckles answered him.

Albus blinked at him. _What is he, a Leprechaun_? _Yep, tha's it, I'm mad! Someone bring the net!_

"Wh-what about Scorpius?" Albus dared ask.

"Malfoy?" Madame Pomfrey asked, "He's fine? Amazing flying for a First Year - those Bludgers never touched him. Pardon me a moment?" She then went off to see to someone else. It seemed the Hospital Wing right then was a rather exciting place and doing a fine business.

"No, no, what House is he in? Wha's going on in here?" Albus called after her. _Bludgers? What Bludgers? We were flying already?_

"In Hufflepuff, along with me an' you an' Cormac?" Another boy spoke up, and Albus looked over to see a somewhat heavy boy sitting on the bed next to him, looking worn out.

"Who'r you?" Albus asked.

"Gaspar? Boone? Gas, for short? Shield Charm? Remember?" Gas asked.

"Sorry, erm, no," Albus looked dazedly at him. "Where's Rose? An' what happened?" Albus gestured at the students being checked and released.

"Trying to keep Scorpius from having a nervous breakdown, I think," Gas replied. "You had a panic attack, Albus, after you rescued Krum and blew up that rogue Bludger. You OK now?"

"No," Albus sighed. _We're in Hufflepuff together now? What the HELL is this?! Maybe I did get brain damage when I fell of the fence?_

"I'll jus' go an' be gettinn Madame P. fer yehs," Cormac offered, dashing off at speed to fetch her from where she was seeing to a rough looking man that Albus recognized from Quidditch photos.

"Viktor Krum?" Albus gasped. "Wha's wrong with him?"

"Yeah, our teacher?" Gas prompted him. "Got knocked silly with those Bludgers, until you blew 'em up?" He repeated.

"With _what_?" Albus asked.

"Yer wand!" Cormac smiled, as he returned with the Mediwitch, who promptly scanned Albus.

"Something isn't right here, little Mister!" She informed him.

"Tell ME!" Albus groaned. "I'm a _Hufflepuff_?" He gaped at her._ This has got to be a dream!_

"Well, _you_ chose it?" She retorted. "Potter, your entire magical makeup is totally out of kilter," she then observed. "Have you been blowing things up again with that insane wand of yours?"

"The duel was..._was_ weird," Albus answered, "It's like, my wand and Scor-...Malfoy's," He corrected himself, "Kind of got locked together?"

"Why would you be dueling Malfoy?" Gas asked, "Professor Bast hasn't even mentioned dueling yet?"

"Wh-what about my wand?" Albus asked nervously, realizing that so far, he'd always had the same one.

"Is' right 'eer," Cormac smiled, pulling it out of Albus' robe pocket.

Albus looked at the ornately carved wand and blinked.

"Tha's _not_ my wand!" He declared, and Cormac looked hurt.

_And Bast? Who's 'Bast'? _Albus then wondered. "Wh-who teaches Potions?" Albus then dared asked. "An' who's the Headmistress?"

Madame Pomfrey looked concerned. "Boys, if you'll excuse us?" She shooed Gas and Cormac out. "If you're messing with me, young man," she warned Albus, as she studied the illusory readouts. Then she gasped. "What the...? What happened to all those catastrophic old injuries of yours from crashing that broomstick, that it took me so many weeks to fix? What were you, about six years old?"

"Pardon?" Albus offered. To the best of his knowledge, he'd never fallen off his broomstick.

"You're in very good shape, really," she then informed him, "I'm sure Headmaster Shacklebolt will be pleased to know? But where did this half-healed head wound come from?" She then waved her wand, and the wound slowly healed a bit more. "This happens sometimes, best not push it," she observed.

"Oh, boy," Albus groaned, realizing that it had indeed happened again.

Reality seemed to have shifted all around him, and Albus was the only one who had noticed. Everything was different and out of place again, and Albus knew that even if he said anything, no one was going to believe him. Even Rose hadn't believed him earlier, he realized, and if he couldn't convince Rose...?

Albus sniffled, pulled the blanket up over his head, and made a decision - he was going to have to try and get himself out of this mess.

_An' they'll jus' think I'm mad, jus' like she does, if I tell any teachers,_ he fretted._ What the hell am I gonna _**_do_**_?! I'm not mad, I'm not mad..._ he kept telling himself._ Have to know _why_ it happens! What causes it? Have to get back to Slytherin and Scorpy!_

He flinched as Madame Pomfrey touched him.

"Potter, whatever _is_ the matter?" She tried to comfort him. Albus fought it at first, but then he suddenly collapsed into her arms, just giving up.

"I'm g-going slightly mad, I think?" He whimpered. "N-none of this is _real_! I d-don't know those two boys, and we're **not** in Hufflepuff! Scorpy and I are in Slytherin!"

Gaspar and Cormac, near the door, heard him and gasped. Cormac then looked angry, but it passed. "Le's go," he told Gaspar. "We're fine, an' Albus is hurt."

_There, it's out. I _knew_ they'd look at me like that...thinkin' I'm a bloody nutter!_ Albus thought.

Madame Pomfrey then flicked her wand, summoning a potion from the nearby cart. "Drink that," she ordered him, and Albus tried, but his hands shook so badly that she had to hold the cup for him. Albus began to relax at once, feeling warm and safe. "Calming Solution, you go through a lot of it with that panic problem of yours."

"B-but, James?" Albus replied, suddenly feeling very calm and even curious.

Madame Pomfrey snorted. "That brother of yours, I'll tell _you_, Mister!" She almost began to rant, "If you were half as cocky and easy going as he is..."

"Oh," Albus nodded, realizing that he still didn't know what that Syndrome was that James had in his last...episode... - and that Albus now seemed to have - but that neither of them were afflicted with in reality...

"Reality," Albus then laughed, "You seen it anywhere, Ma'am? 'cause I think I dropped it somewhere?"

"Albus," She then said, softly, "I want to draw some blood for tests, is that OK?"

"Shuuure," Albus slurred, as the Calming Solution hit him. "Mayb-b-be you can figger this out? 'cuzzz I shuuure can't? One day iz Shlythern, da next iss Gwyffindur, now heeer I um in Hufferpuck?"

"Potter?" She asked, confused at his slurred speech.

"If'n I'm mad, thennnnn I'm gon' 'av some fun wit'it!" Albus declared with a silly grin. Albus then slumped on his pillow, fast asleep.

"Well, that's his usual dose?" The Mediwitch wondered, "Now _why _would it put him straight to sleep?"

She then began to draw blood, but Albus never knew it as Reality slipped away from him again.

"Must speak to the elves," Madame Pomfrey muttered, brushing the dust from Albus' blanket.

**-o:-------**

"Since when have we been on a first-name basis, _Draco_?" Harry asked, as they left Madame Iris Pomfrey to tend to a very confused, but seemingly fine Albus, who was now insisting that he was a Hufflepuff.

Draco shrugged. "This isn't going to be easy, 'Potter', if you prefer?" Draco conceded. "But we've got a huge problem here regarding Albus, and I'm afraid that I'm to blame for it."

_That_ got Harry's attention at once.

"Explain?" Harry asked calmly, his Auror instincts once again taking over.

"I'd rather not - here, that is?" Draco asked. "As a gesture of good will, even though you've allowed Albie over numerous times since they were little, I'd like for you and Hermione...?" He paused, and Harry nodded. "I'd like for you to come to the Manor to discuss it. I'll drop my Wards, and you can bring a few guards if you'd like?"

Harry actually grinned at him. "Draco, what you may not know is that your lovely wife, Astoria, has been trying to arrange this for years now!" Harry then laughed at him. "I trusted you with my child, I testified for your family, so I think it's time we both got over it."

Draco looked shocked. Then he had to smile as well.

"Amazing, isn't it? What kind of changes our children can bring upon us?" Draco mused. "But it's changes that are at the core of Albie's problem, I'm afraid. And we need to discuss it at once before...before it gets him!"

"_Gets_ him?" Harry wondered, as they headed down the stairs.

"Harry, I think I know why Albus is so confused, and why he's so agitated about his seeming memory losses and delusions. I think they're connected to my own. If you'd be so kind as to bring Hermione - but _not_ Ron! _Merlin's beard_, _not_ Ron!"

"Uh, no," Harry agreed quickly, sounding intrigued. "When would you like to have this momentous meeting at the Manor?"

"Tonight," Draco nodded seriously, "Before Albie slips any further away from us and we can't find him! But I'll understand, if you both..."

"No," Harry cut him off, just as the bell rang and they narrowly made it out the front doors before being trampled by curious students. "No, we'll come over. I'm sure things have changed at the Manor since we were last there?"

"You have no idea," Draco sighed heavily, hoping that he could prove to them what he'd done - just as he'd proven it to his father.

"I'll see you at eight?" Harry asked, just as a **FLASH!** went off in his face, blinding him.

"It's Harry Potter! It's _Harry Potter_! Eddie Creevey squeaked.

"But some things _never_ change?" Harry had to laugh, as he shook hands with Colin Creevey's nephew. Eddie fainted.

"Ahhh, Professor?" Draco called, as Professor Urquhart came up the stairs. "Could you, uhhh?" He gestured at Eddie.

"Mr. Malfoy," Urquhart greeted him coolly, "Of course, silly Gryffindors," he shook his head. "I don't often say this, gentlemen, but I was most impressed with your sons in my first class. Creevey here," he snorted, pulling a vial from his pocket and dripping some potion into the boy's mouth, "Melted his cauldron, you know. Typical. Your sons reacted well. I also must confess," he paused, "That they seemed to be adapting well to my House, until Albus..."

"It's fine, Professor," Harry nodded. "I thought he might have a rough time of it, but he _did _choose."

Draco bit his lower lip.

"The other boys do not seem to take well to your sons, gentlemen, but I am, ahhh, encouraging that to change?" Urquhart told them. "I never suspected a nervous breakdown, however?"

"Iris will fix it," Harry said confidently. "If you'll excuse me, then? Eight o'clock, Draco?"

"Eight is good," Draco agreed, as Eddie woke up and promptly lost two points for fainting. Draco had to grin, despite himself, as he watched Harry walking down the way to the front gates.

**-o:-------**

The next morning was bright and sunny when Albus awoke - still in Hospital. The first thing he did was to get up and use the toilet, then found his uniform. He breathed a sigh of relief at the Slytherin crest, and was pleased to find his own wand in the pocket._ I did it! I thought myself back to where I should be!_ Albus sighed in relief, as he brushed the dust off the sleeve and started to get dressed. Then something else came to him: _My clothes don't go with me! I hope I don't end up naked in the Great Hall next time_!

"I see you're up?" He then heard his father ask.

"Dad?" Albus wondered, "Why'r you here?"

"I work here, remember? Fill-in DADA teacher while Professor Quince is ill?" Harry answered.

"Wha' happened to me _this_ time?" Albus gasped, not relishing the thought of a reality where his dad was his teacher.

"I don't know, Albie," Harry said, "Go and ask your Uncle Draco. He said you were hit with a Bludger in Higgins' class?"

Albus blinked.

"_Who said?!_" The boy asked, pulling an odd face.

"Your Uncle - Draco - white hair, snarky attitude - married to your Aunt Hermione?" Harry reminded him. "Scorpy's dad? Remember him?"

"When did _they _get married?" Albus gasped, looking amazed.

Harry sighed and took the boy's hands. "He said you acted like you had memory loss?"

Albus nodded. "Yeah, But - Uncle Ron?"

"You weren't even born yet when he died; you can't remember him," Harry paused, passing a hand over his face and composing himself.

"What?!" Albus breathed, feeling as if he might indeed faint. His extremities went numb as he realized that he hadn't gone back where he belonged.

_I've went further down the rabbit's hole,_ he fretted, remembering a Muggle movie he'd seen once - with his Uncle Ron._ How far down the hole can you go, Albie?_ He asked himself, steeling himself for more odd revelations.

"Does this make Scorpy my cousin?" Albus instead asked happily, not wanting his dad (if this even _was_ his dad) to think he'd totally lost his mind.

"Yes, just like Rosie and Orion."

"Orion?" Albus asked, jaw dropping, "What happened to Hugo?"

"Oh, Albie," Harry sighed again, "I hate to do this, but you're going to have to go back to St. Mungo's and have Poppy look at your head again!"

"Who?"

"Madame Pomfrey?" Harry reminded him.

"Is Albie sick?" A little voice then piped up.

Albus turned.

Standing in the doorway was a boy of about five or six at the most, with thick, fluffy white hair hanging down almost to his brown eyes and well over his ears. His face was a little pointed, he had a pert nose, and Albus recognized his features at once.

"ORION SCOTT MALFOY!" Albus then heard his Aunt Hermione shouting.

"What, Mummy?" Orion rolled his eyes.

"Oh, boy," Albus sighed, figuring that Orion must have done something wrong.

"You don't know Orion?" Harry asked.

"Erm, yeah, sure! Hey, buddy!" Albus greeted the small boy who was far too young for Hogwarts. "What'r you doin' here?"

"Come to stay with Daddy while Mummy had a big case in court," Orion said proudly. "House elf rights! If she wins, elfs can get paid and have all the things that we do!" (His "R's" sounded like "W's".)

As Hermione came into the Hospital, Orion ran to her and hugged her, immediately hitting her with questions. Hermione smiled.

"We won!" She proudly declared. "It's taken almost twenty years, but we finally won! House Elves are now legal, magical citizens!"

"That's fantastic, Love!" Draco called out, as he entered from the main Hospital office.

Albus blinked. Draco was dressed in green scrubs, and there was a stethoscope around his neck. Albus watched as he hugged and kissed Aunt Hermione, and had to bite his lip in order not to laugh.

"Ewww!" Orion sneered, and that look was familiar. "Moooshy!"

_Uncle Ron would just bust a blood vein!_ Albus thought, not that it bothered him - he knew he was somewhere else again, and that his Uncle Ron was really alive and well...somewhere else too.

_Tha's if you're not barking mad,_ Albus reminded himself, thinking that nothing could surprise him more than seeing his "Uncle Draco". But once he thought about it...

"I might just _stay_ here. It's close to real," Albus mumbled to himself.

Then Draco turned on him. "And how's my favorite nephew now?" Draco asked him.

"Don't say that in front of James," Harry put in with a grin.

"Erm, OK, Uncle?" Albus replied.

"I'll let that slide, this time," Draco informed him. "When we're at Hogwarts, it's 'Doctor Malfoy', remember?"

"Then shouldn't I be 'Mr. Potter', then?" Albus grinned back at him, playing right along so that he could finally get out of the bloody Hospital and find his friends.

"Say, what time is it?" Albus asked.

"Lunchtime!" Orion piped up.

"Men," Hermione groaned.

"Food's good for the memory," Draco offered, "Why don't we all head down to the Hall?"

"Race you!" Orion yelled, as Albus took the chance to escape and chased him out.

They'd just made it to the ground floor when the bell rang, and students began filling the corridors.

"Aspie!" Albus heard Scorpius calling over the din, and realized that that must be him.

"Hi!" Albus greeted him happily, so very relieved that he was at least now in a Hogwarts where his best friend didn't hate him - to say nothing of being his cousin!_ Maybe Uncle Ron got killed after Scorpy was born?_ Albus reasoned, thinking that that meant that Rose was there somewhere, too.

"You OK now?" Scorpius asked, his hard face softening a bit as he grabbed his little brother in a headlock and gave him a rough noogie.

"C'mon, Scôr'!" Martin Baddock said, "I'm starved!"

"Yeah, bring the runt, he can sit at our table!" Gamble added.

"Don' call me a'wunt!" Orion retorted, as Gamble suddenly found himself hanging up in the air by his ankles.

"'_Rion_," Scorpius warned him, "You know what Daddy says about that?"

Albus just stared, feeling more relaxed than he had since first waking up in a bed in Gryffindor Tower. He found that he was actually looking forward to seeing who had Sorted where, as Orion released Gamble and they all headed for the front of the Slytherin table.

"So, I see Dad got your head all healed up?" Scorpius asked.

"Yeah, I think I'm a bit...foggy, tho'?" Albus replied, glancing over at the Hufflepuff table and seeing Michael Oliphante, whom he remembered - but no Gas or Cormac.

"Well, seein' as how Professor Higgins started flying class first thing, an' how far you fell when tha' Bludger hit your head," Brock Zabini answered, running a hand over his own shaven scalp.

"Yeah, you been knocked out for like two days?" Tommy Nott put in, awed.

_Maybe that's it after all_? Albus had to wonder. But the fact that he knew what he remembered dashed that hope. He remembered Uncle Ron. He remembered cousin Hugo...

_And now Hugo's been replaced by Orion, because wherever I am now, Uncle Ron was killed a long time ago_!

"Eat up, Aspie," Scorpius whispered to him, grinning again. "Rose is probably still chatting up her last professor, you know." He rolled his eyes. "Typical Ravenclaw. But then again, I guess all we need now is a Hufflepuff in the family?" He winked at his little brother.

"Nuhhh-uhhh!" Orion protested. "I wanna be in Slythewin, too!"

'_Aspie_'? Albus wondered, making a mental note to ask Rose if she'd finally come up those 'cool' aliases she'd promised them on the train.

"Speakin' of," Scorpius pointed, as Rose came in chatting with Professor Longbottom. "Rosie!" Scorpius called, and to Albus' surprise, she came right over to the table.

"Oh, Albus, you're up!" Rose greeted him happily. "Boys," she said coolly to the rest of them. "Come and sit with _me_, 'Rion," she then asked.

"No way!" Orion retorted.

"Some little brother _you_ are!" Rose huffed at him, but with a smile.

_Well, they all seem happy?_ Albus wondered, as Rose bent down to whisper in his ear:

"Tell my silly stepbrother NOT to expect ME to call him by that _ridiculous_ nickname!" Rose hissed.

"Huh?" Albus blinked at her, realizing that he'd been right.

"Honestly? '_Sting_'?" Rose muttered, "I can't believe he liked that one. Glad to see you can join us for Potions later," she then took her leave of them, heading for the Ravenclaw table.

_'Aspie and Sting'_, Albus wondered, finding that he liked the sound of that as he was suddenly snatched up and crushed into a familiar-smelling moleskin coat.

"Hagrid!" Albus gasped, knowing at once who had him.

Hagrid, of course, was almost beside himself at seeing Albus up and about. "'Ow many times do I 'av ter tell yehs, if'n yer gonna _fly_, use a _Hippogriff_?" Hagrid chastised them all. "Beaky'll be so glad ter see yeh!"

Hagrid then went on up to the Staff table.

Albus was surprised to see his Uncle Neville take the center golden seat. As he looked down the table, he realized that he knew Professor Urquhart, Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall. _But why's she not the Headmistress_?

"'s'a'matter?" Scorpius asked Albus. "They said you might have some memory loss. You forget who teaches what already?"

"Wha's Professor McGonagall doing here?" Albus offered.

"Filling in for Teddy Lupin," Zabini explained. "Jus' for a few days. He's got some business to sort out."

"But he just graduated, didn't he?" Albus gasped.

"Yes he did," Draco filled them in, as he passed by. "Youngest professor ever at Hogwarts. Absolute ace at Transfigurations."

"Is...is he a werewolf?" Albus decided to risk asking.

"Only if he wants to be, and a colorful one at that," Draco smiled. Then he pulled his wand out and scanned Albus' head. Albus found he was really getting tired of that.

"You're all gonna melt my brain doin' that!" He protested.

"As if," James snorted from directly behind him at the Gryffindor table, which seemed to have moved over one row.

"Hey!" Albus grinned at him.

"Don't you go grinnin' at me like that, Squirt!" James retorted. "I told you not to try out for Quidditch first class, but no! Don't listen to me! See what you got, you little Gnome? I mean, it's not like you can fly like _**I**_ _can_!"

_Tha's my James, at least_, Albus just grinned back at him, finding that he liked the snarky James much more than the pathetic, stricken James he'd already seen._ I think I can get used to this, if I had to!_

"Albie," Draco whispered to him, and Albus stiffened at once at his tone. "I want to see you after CoMC with Hagrid, OK? If you feel like going to class?"

"I'm OK?" Albus offered blankly.

"Just don't do anything overly magical until I can examine you further," Draco warned him. "Your magical signature isn't quite right. It's very close, but a bit...off?"

Albus just nodded, but to his surprise, found that he was starving. He realized that he wasn't sure when he'd last eaten a real meal, and he attacked his sandwiches with vigor.

"Slow down, man!" Nott laughed at him, and Albus was relieved to see that their roomies were now even friendly with him and Scorpius.

As the Bloody Baron drifted through, giving them all a look, Albus noticed a little boy sitting all alone at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Kyne," He remembered. "'scuse me a minute," Albus said, as he turned around and pelted Eddie Creevey on the back of the head with a bun. "You there, Creevey!" Albus told him, "What's up with that boy down there?" He demanded, pointing at Kyne.

Eddie looked terrified at being accosted by a Slytherin, and tried to explain that Kyne was a werewolf and kept to himself.

"Be nice to him," Albus warned the nearby Gryffindor First Years, "And have my Uncle Neville set him up with Teddy Lupin. And I better not hear about Kyne being mistreated, either. I happen to like him!" Albus threatened them all.

Albus' mates just stared at him.

"He's off limits," Albus reminded them, too. "Besides, I might need him later," He added in a very Slytherinish tone, which of course, made it OK with them.

Another thing that kept distracting Albus was how Scorpius interacted with his little brother._ He said he wished he'd had one,_ Albus recalled, with just a twinge of regret.

Potions class went well, and Albus surprised himself when their Draught of Living Death turned out perfectly, thus rendering Tristan Corner of Ravenclaw 'dead'. It was the only mix in class that turned out right, seeing as how Albus knew to crush the bean, and not try to cut it.

"Oh, just leave him there," Urquhart suggested when the bell rang. "It was watered down; he'll wake up in time for dinner! Well done, boys! Ten points to Slytherin!"

Their new Care of Magical Creatures Intro class with Hagrid went well, but Albus got a rude shock when they went to put the Nifflers away.

Standing before him at the edge of the Forest was the most hideous horse that Albus had ever seen. It had dragon-like wings and vacant, milky eyes that reminded him of opal gemstones. The thing looked starved, and as it swished its tail, Albus noticed there were no flies around it.

"What'cha lookin' at?" Hagrid asked.

"Hagrid!" Albus gasped, "What IS _that_ thing?" He pointed.

"What?"

"That...that _horse_?" Albus waved his hand. Then he remembered more of James' teasing, "Is that a Thestral?" Albus breathed.

Hagrid looked surprised. "Yeh kin see 'im? Idn't 'e beautiful?" Hagrid asked. "Wait! How's come YOU can SEE him?!"

"I...I don' know," Albus replied truthfully. "I...I never saw anyone die before, right?"_ Except for in my nightmares, _he thought.

"No' tha' I know of," Hagrid agreed, as the Thestral moved closer. Albus stood his ground, remembering what his Uncle Ron and his father had said about them.

The Thestral nuzzled at the boy's neck, whinnied once, and tossed his head about. Hagrid gave Albus a chunk of raw meat, and he fed it to the beast.

"Follo' yeh 'round forever, now, jus' like a kitty-cat!" Hagrid beamed.

Albus took his leave of Hagrid after having some tea and treacle, citing that he was supposed to go and see his Uncle Draco in Hospital. By the time Hagrid was done with him, Albus was sure that he needed his ribs reset.

He found his 'Uncle' seated at the desk in his office, studying a large book.

"Come in, Albie, come in," Draco invited him. "Don't worry, no gown or exam this time. Not that you remember the last time?"

"Sorry, no?" Albus offered, and honestly, he didn't. How could he - since he hadn't been there?

"You don't remember the accident, do you?" Draco got right to it.

"No, sir," Albus confessed.

"And you don't remember _me_, do you?" Draco caught him off guard. "I can see it in your eyes?"

Albus sat down as Draco waved his hand at a chair.

"I...I jus' remember you different, sir," Albus admitted.

"How so?" Draco asked, in a voice that encouraged Albus to open up to him.

Albus swallowed hard, and began his story with, "Please don't think I'm mad, sir!"

He then told him the whole thing, feeling somehow, as if he could trust the man he knew as Scorpius' daddy. After all, 'Mr. Malfoy' had always been kind to him when they were little. He told him all about being in Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and how everything seemed to keep shifting around him.

"That, or I'm just mad!" Albus concluded, near to tears with new fear and relief both. It felt good to get it out.

Draco sat for some time, long enough to make Albus nervous._ Are they coming after me with wands and nets next? Am I going to the pillow-rooms at St. Mungo's?_

"I believe you," Draco then finally announced.

"YOU DO?!" Albus squeaked, making an incredulous face.

"I do," Draco repeated.

"WHY?!"

"Because," Draco continued, "When I finished my education after the War, in the United States, I took a Magical Theory class. You see, I had to keep my mind busy. I couldn't have idle time, or I'd have gone mad. But as the theory goes then, my boy, _you_ do not belong here! I spotted it when I scanned you last."

Albus just stared at him.

"Your magical signature is close to what is normal," Draco explained. "You see, every Magical object gives off a signature. It is a state of being, let's say, which is the basic construction of any object - alive or not. Yours, however, is _not_ right. This is something that cannot be tampered with, and was only recently disclosed by the Unspeakable Department at the Ministry."

"And?" Albus prompted him.

"Very simply, Nephew - _you_ do not belong in this Universe."

"Sir..."

But Draco held up a hand and stopped him. "While you were unconscious, after that bit of ranting when you first woke up, I also did a cheek swab and tested your DNA. A useful Muggle trick I learned from my second wife - your Auntie? You are, according to your genes, Albus Severus Potter. Your wand matches Ollivander's records - a Gregorovitch import, rather long, holly, with Phoenix and Hippogriff feathers. It is the brother to my son's wand, in fact - his is ironwood, though - but with dual cores from the same two creatures in both cases. Exceedingly rare, you see? So what I want to know, Nephew, is _how_ did you get here?"

Albus gulped.

"So...so I'm not going mad?" He gasped.

"Not unless I am as well," Draco smiled at him.

"Of course you're mad...men!" Hermione interrupted, as she came in with Orion and gave Albus a kiss on the cheek. Albus cringed. "We're heading home, dear. Just thought we'd pop in and say goodbye?"

Draco got up and embraced his 'wife', kissing her firmly on the lips. It was a rather serious kiss, as well.

"Ewww!" Both boys gasped. "Get a room, you two!" Albus exclaimed, as Draco's hand began to stray...

They broke the kiss. Hermione straightened her robe. "Well, yes, stay out of trouble, then, boys?" She told them both, looking flustered, as Orion hugged his father goodbye.

Albus felt a lump in his throat, realizing that he missed his own family very much. As they exited the room, Albus sadly realized that he'd probably never see Orion again. He looked at the Slytherin crest on his robe. _And I can't even take a photo of him back with me,_ Albus reasoned, remembering that his uniform always changed when Reality did. _Only I go - my clothes don't!_ Then he thought of Scorpius' mail, still in the pocket of his Slytherin robe back in..._back in where I belong,_ Albus sighed.

"I'm not mad," Albus repeated.

"No," Draco assured him, going back to his desk and flicking through the large book. "This is on loan from my old School in the States; I ordered it Apparated here when you started ranting earlier," he explained. "It's illegal for me to even show it to you, the subject is so highly classified. Tell me, Albie," Draco turned serious, "Where did you get your hands on a Time-Turner?"

"A what?!" Albus asked, as Draco offered him some tea. Albus accepted it willingly; his mouth had gone very dry. As he drank it, a funny feeling came over him. "I...I dunno what that is, sir? And...and...I dumped potatoes over Tommy's head at the Feast, and Scorpy and I were gonna try an' hex the showers to run ice water, and this one time when James..."

"Stop!" Draco laughed. "Albie, that's enough. I will tell you that there was one drop of Veritaserum in that tea, but I had to be absolutely sure of the truth. Forgive me, but this is very important. I had to know that you weren't an imposter, and it's been long enough for PolyJuice to wear off."

"Oh!"

"Now, this is going to be our secret, because there is, theoretically, only one way to breach a parallel universe - with a Time-Turner trip gone bad," he pointed at the book, "It will be absolute chaos if anyone else finds out. They'll take you away, lock you up, and study you until the day you die. We cannot allow that," Draco added firmly, "Because we have to find a way to get you back to where you belong, and get OUR Albus back. I'm sure your parents miss you." He then paused. "I'm sorry, Albie. You _do_ have a family, where you came from? I should have asked."

"Yes, sir," Albus nodded. "But I never...?"

"You did not travel in time?" Draco asked.

"No, sir," Albus said firmly. "I didn't even know we could?"

"We can't, normally," Draco informed him. "But if my theory is correct, then, and I am sure it is, then someone else must have - and somehow knocked you out of your own Universe in making a change to history. You might as well know, I took the class because there were horrors in my life that I wanted to..."

Then Draco's face paled as he stared at Albus in wonder. For just an instant, he thought he saw a dark tear on Albus' left cheek. _It all fits_, Draco thought, _Merlin's pants, what if _**_I_**_ did this to him_?

"Draco? Have you see him?" A disembodied then asked, and Draco flinched.

It was his own voice

"I just thought I was mad!" Albus finally smiled in relief.

"I've thought the same thing, too, Albie," Draco admitted, looking around the room. "The first night you and Scorpy were here, I had the most awful nightmare. I dreamed I was at Kings Cross, waiting for the train. I was with a beautiful woman who wasn't Hermione, but the train never came. We found out later that some neo-Death Eaters, let's call them, attacked it."

"And there was fire," Albus cut in, beginning to tremble as he recalled his nightmare, and how Scorpius had had the exact same dream.

Then something else came rushing back at him - a detail that he'd either forgotten, or blocked out.

"And Scorpius died," Albus said flatly, shivering again, as he realized just _why_ he could see Thestrals.

Some part of him had seen his best friend die – somewhere, somewhen else.

"In my dream, I returned to a deserted Manor filled with dust," Draco went on, nodding. "I wandered its empty halls for a year, refusing to accept my loss. I cannot make anyone else go through that, Albie." Draco then sniffed, and pulled a handkerchief to blow his nose. Albus was surprised. "That dream haunts me almost every night now," Draco went on. "I wake up feeling, somehow, incomplete? As if I really have lost a part of myself? Then, when you were injured and I was treating you, I felt as if something had come back. I can't define it, but there was this odd dust..."

"I'm not mad," Albus sighed in relief.

"No, but you will be," Draco informed him, pointing at the book. "There is only one case of this, and that man lost his mind."

"But _how_ do I make them believe me?" Albus gaped at him, feeling his eyes beginning to sting, "No one is going to believe this? Madame Pomfrey didn't?"

"**I** _did_," Draco reminded him. "So when it happens again, Albie, you must seek me out - find Draco Malfoy - and tell him about the dream. If I'm right, and I usually am," Draco smiled at him, "He'll be feeling the same way - incomplete. He'll be having the same nightmares. And he will believe you."

"B-but until then?" Albus fumbled, "Wh..whut'do'I..."

"We try and figure out what sets off your 'jumps', let's call them," Draco assured him, coming around his desk to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder. Albus couldn't stand it. He jumped up and hugged the man who was, in that place and time, his uncle.

"For now," Draco went on, "I want you to think about every time it happened. Write it down, tonight. Keep doing that, and tell Scorpy and your friends about it. Even if you jump before we figure it out, at least we'll have some evidence for the Albus who comes to replace you."


	8. Chapter 8 The Soul of Draco Malfoy

**VIII**

**The Soul of Draco Malfoy**

That night at Malfoy Manor, Draco and Astoria escorted their guests directly to the library. Draco had decided to involve his wife in the discussion, mainly because of the stress that his behavior was causing her - and because he felt that she had a right to know and fully understand what he'd done.

"This place has certainly changed, and much to the better," Hermione complimented their hosts upon arrival.

"It's so nice for us to finally meet like this," Astoria told them over drinks and sweets. "After all those years of Albus coming over to help Scorpy wreck the place."

"Yes, probably the best kept secret in the history of both families?" Hermione offered. "I still remember the looks on your faces when Andromeda stepped in to mediate it!" She laughed. "Of course, we _never_ told Ron!"

"The Black Sisters were never ones to be trifled with," Draco agreed, and Harry was reminded of how Narcissa had betrayed Voldemort and turned the tide of the War. "And thanks for that. I don't think Weas-...Ron would have understood. He didn't look very happy at the Platform as it was."

"Your mother saved more than _my_ life that night," Harry told Draco.

"Things might have turned for this family sooner," Draco replied, "if Father had only known just how many Horcruxes the Dark Lord had scattered about. I think he suspected the diary all along, really, but he said we couldn't risk betraying _him _back then. Apparently, only one Death Eater or two knew of each one."

"There were seven," Hermione informed him, and Draco blanched.

"What is a Horcrux?" Astoria then asked, and Harry let Hermione explain it.

"Great Merlin!" Astoria gasped. "How can one live with his Soul broken into seven pieces?"

"He can't, not really," Harry said softly. "At least, that's what the Prophecy said." He paused. "But that's not why you asked us here, is it, Draco?"

"No," Draco answered, reaching for the book again. "I've decided that I have no choice but to trust you both on this one. Even if you do decide to turn me in for it, I fear it will soon be a moot point. Hermione will understand it all, I dare say?"

Hermione gasped as she read the title of the book.

"The Dark Lord had Father steal this for him," Draco explained. "He left instructions the night that he went to...to kill baby Harry," Draco fumbled, "That if something should go wrong, Father was to take this book and study it - learn it - in order to properly activate the diary and bring him back."

"Funny how these things work," Harry mused, as Hermione just stared at the book. "If he hadn't given Ginny the diary, we might well have fought this whole war for nothing. Dumbledore wouldn't have realized he was using Horcruxes, and Voldemort would have just come back again."

"Hermione, what is it?" Astoria asked, as Hermione began scanning the table of contents of the book.

"Draco!" Hermione gasped, "Why show this to me?" She asked suspiciously.

"Because I know you used a Time-Turner in your Third Year," Draco stated without preamble. "And you have a basic knowledge of how Time works."

Hermione just stared at him. "How can _you_ know that?"

"Because _you _told me," Draco replied. "In some other place, some other time." He paused to pour himself a Firewhiskey.

"But I gave that back to McGonagall!" Hermione said, "Only she and Dumbledore and Harry ever knew! It took ages to convince the Ministry to let me have one, and then only one with limited range! I turned it back in after..." She paused. "When I was done with it."

"I daresay some of the Unspeakables knew you had it," Draco added. "Someone had to sign off on it, don't you think?"

"Meaning?" Harry cut in.

"Not sure," Draco shook his head, "But something about that is nagging at me."

"But you said that I told you, in some other time, that I had one?" Hermione reminded him.

"And McGonagall never gave it back," Draco told her. "In all the excitement of Sirius Black on the loose, it lay forgotten in her desk. It may still be in her desk, somewhere, forgotten, covered in dust," he mused, pouring them all drinks, even though they declined.

"Oh, I think you're going to _need_ that, when I tell you what I brought you all here to tell you," Draco confessed. "Hermione, you just said it - how could I know that you had a Time-Turner?"

"Well, I don't recall telling _you_?" She retorted.

"But you did," Draco replied, "And this is where it's going to get hard to follow. "You see, you went to McGonagall, after the end of the Albie's and Scorpy's First Year, and asked for it back. She was so stricken, after the War and all, that the murder of the boys pushed her over the edge. She gave it back to you, and you went to Luna Lovegood. The two of you set to modifying it for unlimited range, with precise planetary alignment. _You_ were going to use it, Hermione - use it, that is, until Albus stole it from you over a year later and brought it here, to me."

"Draco, you're talking in circles?" Astoria offered, looking lost.

"No, I don't think so," Harry attempted, his face darkening, as something seemed to come to him. He picked up his glass of Firewhiskey and drained it in one gulp. Hermione looked stricken, as the same idea seemed to come to her.

"_That's_ how you know all of this," Hermione theorized, "You took it, and you _used_ it!"

Draco looked away, but he did nod.

"Draco," Harry shook his head, "All things being equal, and we've tried to make them so for the boys' sake, this is just not something that I can let slide! I'm an Auror, for Merlin's sake! Do you know what the penalty is for intentionally tampering with the Timeline?!"

"Yes," Draco said flatly, "But hear me out, Harry. There was a very good reason that I used it, but in doing so, I made a mistake. Hermione was going to warn me about something, but I activated it before she could tell me."

"What could have been so catastrophic that you'd jeopardize the entire Timeline?" Hermione asked. "And _what_ murder of _what_ boys, you mentioned?"

"Only this," Draco replied, as he opened a desk drawer and handed the yellowed newspaper to Harry. "Read that."

Harry, Hermione, and Astoria moved closer to examine the newspaper, where the headline read:

**"SCORPIUS MALFOY MURDERED AT KINGS CROSS! -**

**ALBUS POTTER GRAVELY INJURED,****  
****NOT EXPECTED TO LIVE.**

*******

**Head Auror Potter Relieved of Duty;**

**Malfoys Vanish - Page 2!**

**"The Wizarding World was shocked yesterday when the Hogwarts Express, carrying students back to Kings Cross for the summer holidays, was attacked by a band of what appeared to be Death Eaters from the days of You-Know-Who.**

**Only one car of the train was attacked, however - the car usually fancied by Slytherin students.**

**Killed in the attack was Scorpius Malfoy, only son of former Death Eater initiate Draco L. Malfoy and Mrs. Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy. Critically injured and maimed, possibly beyond magical repair, was Albus Severus Potter, second son of the famous Harry Potter - destroyer of the Dark Lord and recently relieved Head Auror. Having discovered his seriously injured son in the wreckage, clinging to the corpse of the Malfoy boy as if trying to shield him, Potter was said to have sworn that he would..."**

"What rubbish!" Hermione gasped. "Those reporters..."

"You've been to the future?" Astoria wondered, her face deathly pale as she read what she perceived to be her only son's death sentence.

"No," Hermione shook her head, "He's been to the past, haven't you? We're the ones who haven't caught up with Draco yet?"

"_This_ is what you went back to change?" Harry asked, his face pale and hands shaking.

"I...I cannot believe this," Astoria breathed. "Draco, if you...if you undid this," she pointed at the paper, "Then how...? Why do you still know of it? Where did this paper come from?"

"He brought it back, from a future that no longer exists," Hermione theorized. "Right?"

Draco nodded again. "Sort of. You'll see."

"Then how can _it_ even exist?" Harry wondered, "And why wasn't your memory altered when Time was? We don't remember this, Hermione and me? Why do you?"

"As I said," Draco began explaining again, helping himself to another drink, "I went back in time; I had to! You can't know, none of you," he almost choked on his drink, "What it was like to live here - alone - for over a year, as the Manor sat deserted and fell down around me."

"Where was I, Love?" Astoria wondered.

"You...you left me," Draco admitted. "After the funeral, I...I couldn't function. I couldn't feel anything but rage and sadness. Nothing seemed real to me, but for that. And without the last Heir to live in it, to love it, the magic broke and the Manor began to crumble. The House of Malfoy fell, and I fell right along with it."

Astoria moved to comfort her husband, but as Draco took her arm, he seemed even more upset. "You did all you could to reach me. Mother and Father did their best. But in the end, Darling, I went mad! Mad with grief! I spent my days sitting in our son's empty room, sitting there on his bed, crying, or trying to, drinking, watching that silly toy Hippogriff fly around the room until one of his wings fell off. Watching, as my home ... my life ... fell into nothing more than dust."

"Draco?"

"No! I have to get this out! I have to get it to happen again, to show you! Like I showed Father! Once you see where this paper came from," he snorted, "Once you see the damage, you'll understand!"

"And how can you do this?" Harry wondered. "Time is changed? That place no longer exists?"

"Yes, it does," Draco disagreed, "It's here, now, all around us. You just can't see it - yet."

"But Albus?" Hermione asked, "How is it that this has affected Albus? It can't surely be related to his...mental illness? I thought that's why you asked us here?"

Harry flinched at that word, but he nodded anyway. In truth, Albus had been getting worse and worse with each passing day. Every time, it seemed, that someone even visited him, the boy would insist that nothing was as it should be. "Raving lunatic," his friends had called him.

"Yes, it is related," Draco replied. "I made a horrible mistake, when I corrected this abomination. Albus came to me, risking his life for his best friend - again - and I repaid him with murder."

No one said a word.

Draco saw the looks on their faces, and for the first time, he longed to see the telltale sign of dust that would trigger the madness - the dust that would take him, take them all, to the place where Draco had lived without his beloved son.

The dust that would take them all straight to Hell...

"That day in Diagon Alley," Harry finally spoke up, "When Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle were murdered? You killed them, didn't you, Draco?"

Again, Draco could only nod.

"You knew the clue? '-The Shame of Slytherin House-', didn't you?" Harry asked, stabbing a finger at the paper.

Again, the nod.

Only this time, Draco's head stayed down. Stayed down, as if he knew he'd just pronounced his own death sentence.

"Just before you showed up for ice cream," Draco explained. "You were so angry with Albus, no, frightened, I think? He was sitting with us, happy, and your first thought was that I was going to harm him?"

It was Harry's turn to nod.

"And I don't blame you," Draco went on, "I was so giddy, because I'd just murdered the men who were going to kill my son years later. And even then, they knew it. They as good as confessed to it!"

"But I was the one who checked your wand!" Harry scoffed, "It was clean! The _Priori Incantatum_ revealed no signs of the killing curse?"

"You _did _use your wand?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Draco confessed. "I used my wand, the Hawthorne wand that rightly knows Harry as its Master to this day. And I also used Scorpy's wand, ruined as it was. I don't know how it even cast the spell. Perhaps..." Draco remembered...

_"This," Draco said softly, as one single tear rolled down his cheek and fell, anointing the ruined wand that had once resided in a warm, smooth little hand to do its Magic, "This is the wand of a dead child."_

"My tear," Draco decided. "I hadn't cried since the funeral - not one bloody tear. All the tears had long since turned to dust. But that one tear somehow brought my son's dead wand back to life, and it seemed more than happy to strike down the one who had killed its Master. I fired on them both with my wand, with Scorpy's wand, and when they fell dead in that empty alleyway, _my_ wand, from my aborted future, turned to dust and vanished. So did Scorpy's."

"I don't think I like where this is going," Hermione cut in, her mind racing ahead as Draco cocked his head at her, asking her to go on.

Harry stared as Draco laid his wand on the desk. It was the wand that Harry knew - the wand that he had used during the Battle of Hogwarts.

The wand that had rebounded the final curse, thus killing Voldemort.

"May I?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded.

As Harry picked up the wand, a tingle of recognition spread up his arm. "This _is _the Hawthorne wand," he confirmed, "We know one another. But I am not the one you need to serve now," He said to the wand, handing it back to Draco.

"You took Past-Draco's wand, when yours vanished?" Hermione theorized, "Because when you approached him, this Past-Draco blinked out of existence? But his wand didn't?"

"An Exclusion," Draco confirmed, as Astoria gasped. "To where or when my past self is gone, I cannot say. But I do know this - his wand remained, and I took it. It was unspoiled, clean. The murdering wands were gone, and as Harry had told me - in my ruined future before I destroyed it - that all evidence would be, and had then been, destroyed. I had committed the perfect crime."

"There could not be two of you, in one place, in such close proximity, at the same time," Hermione said, "Harry and I never got so close to one another when we went back to..."

"You told me the story of Sirius Black, in that aborted future," Draco interrupted her. "And I can appreciate how his love for Harry kept him from madness all those years, even in Azkaban. Perhaps the same kind of love can sustain me as well, when this is all over."

But Hermione was shaking her head, her face hard in concentration. "Impossible," she reasoned. "Past-Draco should not have ceased to exist. Matter cannot be destroyed, even by Magic. It has to convert, like wood in fire is converted to smoke an ash. It must go somewhere! How can it be that YOU," she pointed at Draco, "Being a Future-You, how can _you _have been the one to _not _be Excluded? At the very least, you two should have ... merged, or something, as the altered Timeline shifted and your future collapsed?"

"I still don't know how this is all affecting my boy?" Harry asked, looking totally lost and out of his depth. So was Astoria.

"I have a theory, and it is _only_ a theory," Draco offered, now madly looking around the room for the accursed dust that he now so desperately longed to see.

But there was none.

"I have felt...incomplete, for lack of a better word," Draco explained further, "Since I killed my old friends. I didn't notice it then, I was so elated to have saved the boys. But ever since they left on the Hogwarts Express a few days ago, my dreams have been strange. There are voices in the Manor now, and they call to me. They could come calling at any time," he gripped his wife's arm, offering his other hand to Hermione. "And when they do come, they will bring the proof."

"Who are they?" Harry humored him, as he took Hermione's hand, "And why are we doing this?"

"Because I think...I think that when I...I killed them," Draco theorized, "That in repaying - with murder - a dying child's last wish for someone he so dearly loved, that I...that my...my Soul shattered. Where those unknown parts of it went, I can't be sure. As I said, it's only a theory.

"But I think that at least one part of what remains of it...my Soul...attached itself to Albus that day. He was the first one to touch my wand, Past-Draco's wand, after the murders. He picked it up and gave it to me. Perhaps it even thought that you, Harry, its real master, had come to claim it?"

Draco expected them to stun him right then and there, and to wake up to find himself locked up in the Mental Ward of St. Mungo's. But much to his surprise, Harry looked intrigued.

"Just like Voldemort, when he murdered my parents and tried to murder me!" Harry exclaimed, pointing to his scar with his free hand. "That night, Voldemort's Soul split again, unstable as it already was, and a part of it latched onto me. My scar became his unknown, unintentional, and final Horcrux!"

"It also gave you both a mental connection to one another," Hermione reminded him.

Then her eyes went wide.

"My God! What if the same thing has happened to Albus? What if you've bound yourself to him - to both of them - somehow..."

"That's exactly what I think happened," Draco said sadly, listening hard as they all sat there holding hands. "Harry, the paper?"

Harry reached over for it, and as he picked it up, a fine scattering of dust fell from its pages.

_**"SCORPIUS!"**_ An agonized wail then echoed through the Manor.

_**"ALBUS!"**_ Harry then heard his own voice crying out, and it was such a painful cry that it instantly brought tears to his eyes as once again, the stained glass dragon exploded outwards as the books flew from the shelves in a scattering of dust.

Torn pages littered the room, and the bust of Abraxas Malfoy once again crumbled. The lights went out, and the room grew cold and dark.

The four of them sat, surrounded by only the dusty silences of Draco Malfoy's personal Hell on Earth.

"_This_ is where I lived," Draco said in a whisper. "This is where it left me, unable to move on. And whatever you do, don't let go of one another. I don't know what would happen."

"Is this real, or like a Pensieve?" Harry wondered, as they carefully got up.

"Seeing as how Father and I are not here, I think the latter," Draco surmised, "But I could be wrong."

"Oh, Draco!" Astoria gasped, tears in her eyes as she surveyed the ruined library. "I...I can't believe I...I left you here in this, all alone?"

"You had your own grief, and I could not help you heal it," Draco forgave her at once. "Just as you could not heal mine. The death of our son was simply too much, Darling. It was something so terrible, and I believe - something that was not meant to be - that it disturbed the whole Universe. But in trying to fix it," Draco hung his head again, "I have very likely damaged it beyond repair."

"The murders," Hermione reasoned, "The shattering of your Soul?" She asked, looking from Draco to Harry, who nodded.

"Even Voldemort never attempted magic on such a grand scale," Harry said, "He never wiped out an entire Timeline." He paused to look around. "Somehow, I don't think it was an accident that we destroyed the Office of Time, either?" He asked Hermione.

"Could this have affected that, back then?" Hermione wondered.

"Wands connect, Ollivander said," Harry theorized, "What if Time-Turners do too? What if those others knew somehow, that one of them, one of their fellows, had literally torn a huge chunk out of...of Creation?"

"But the boys?" Astoria asked, as Draco prompted them to follow him down the hall, towards the bedrooms.

"In this place, _both_ Albus and Scorpius are dead," Draco replied without emotion.

Harry looked sharply at Draco, very nearly dropping Hermione's hand, but she held fast to him.

"_That's_ how the Bloody Baron knew that Albus was dead?" Harry gasped. "Somehow, Albus must have 'Ghosted' himself somehow, here, and went back to Hogwarts, in confusion maybe?"

"But how could OUR Baron know him, then?" Hermione asked, "If Time shifted?"

"Because physical laws do not apply to Ghosts," Astoria shrugged. "Greengrass Galleries has a few Ghosts, you know. And now and again, one of them would let something slip. I think it's some rule that they can't violate? Telling us how it is, or how they perceive things?"

"Sir Nicholas wouldn't tell me anything about Sirius, either," Harry recalled. "He seemed to avoid the question, then denied knowledge. You may be right."

"But this Timeline was erased?" Hermione insisted, thus destroying that theory.

About then, they all saw Draco Malfoy - another Draco - emerge from Scorpius' bedroom. His hands were clenched into fists, and trails of golden dust ran from them, as if he himself were literally dissolving before their very eyes. His face was streaked with tears, and his exposed skin looked slightly burnt with a pink tint, bleeding and peeling in places, as if he'd just come through a fire.

The real Draco flinched, his hand sweaty as he gripped Astoria's, as if for dear life. His very insides felt hollow, and a chill spread through him so that his breath shown in a cloud as he gasped. A chill wind passed through them all in that instant, blowing away the dust from this new Draco's hands.

**"NO!"** This new suffering Draco cried out, "NO! I KILLED THEM, ALBUS! I _CAN'T_ BE HERE AGAIN! IT CAN'T TURN OUT LIKE THIS! THIS PLACE _CANNOT_ EXIST ANYMORE! GODS, **NO!** _ANYWHERE_ BUT HERE! MY SON? HE SHOULD BE HERE? _WHERE IS HE_?"

And then this other Draco threw back his head, and with the sound of a wounded animal - a sound that Harry had only heard one man make before in his life - _that_ new Draco screamed one word:

**"ALBUS!"**

He then collapsed, sobbing, to the floor.

Draco turned away from his suffering self, and when he did, they found themselves back in the warm, well-lit, and clean library again.

*******

And in the dusty halls of a ruined Malfoy Manor, this other Draco looked up hopefully, thinking that there might have been someone there.

But there was no one.

And Draco wept.

*******

The four of them just sat, visibly shaken, as they released hands. Only Draco held tight to Astoria's, and he was now sobbing as well as he fell into her arms and collapsed on the divan.

Draco Malfoy wept.

"What did we just see?" Harry asked Hermione, as they moved off to give the Malfoys some degree of dignity.

"I think that was a remnant of Draco's Soul," Hermione offered. "The part that exulted in the murders. For some reason, call it Fate, I don't know! That part of him was cast back here - there - to that ruined Manor as punishment."

"He was burnt," Harry added, "Wounded. Not like what I saw of Voldemort in the Afterlife, but well on the way to it."

"He was looking for Albus," Hermione replied. "Why would his first cry of terror be for Albus?"

"Because I loved him," Draco interrupted them, having regained enough composure to talk.

Harry and Hermione paused in shock at the confession.

"I came to think of him as not quite a son, but so much more than just one of my son's friends. Maybe even more than a nephew, but just shy of my own son?" Draco admitted.

And Harry, of all of them, understood. Hadn't Molly Weasley said the same thing during his Fifth Year? "He's just as good as!" She'd snapped at Sirius.

"They were so happy when they were together," Astoria supplied, "The boys, that is. Scorpy was so miserable for so long, here. We wanted to protect him from our past, but then when he started school, he found out that no one wanted anything to do with him. He had no friends. He was always left out, and it hurt him so."

"Until Albus came along," Harry nodded sadly.

"You said that Dumbledore once told you, Harry, that 'there is a magic in children'? A deep magic that Voldemort knew nothing of, and would never understand?" Hermione offered, her mind clearly working again.

"What if," She went on, beginning to circle the room, "What if this unknown magic is what bound the boys together? What if it had some property beyond normal magic? Say - something that went beyond the laws of even physical Space-Time? Something so powerful, that even shattering their originating Timeline couldn't destroy it?"

"Like Molly and Arthur Weasley?" Harry added, "Arthur said that for them, even at eleven, it was love at first site? You saw how Molly fought, too? At the Battle? When she killed Bellatrix LeStrange? It was as if Bellatrix had no chance from the get-go of ever even scratching her?"

"Uh, Harry?" Draco cut in, his face incredulous as Astoria used her wand to clean him up.

"Not like THAT!" Harry gasped. "I mean like family! You said that Albus came here, after the attack? He was badly hurt, and he died bringing you his solution to save Scorpius? _That_ kind of love! Like when my mother threw herself in front of Voldemort to save me!"

"Precisely," Hermione agreed. "Albus literally threw himself in front of an entire Timeline that would have seen his best friend killed. And he didn't think twice about it."

"Can such a friendship even be _possible_?" Astoria wondered.

"Yes," Harry didn't hesitate to answer. "Trust me, it can." He looked hard at Draco. "You were the first magical child I ever met," Harry told him, "And you were hateful. Hagrid was good to me, and you made fun of him. It hurt me. And then on the train, Ron showed up. Accident? I don't think so," Harry shook his head. "I loved Ron like a brother from the moment he first spoke to me, showed me kindness. Then months later, he offered his life for mine on that bloody, giant nightmare of a chessboard when we were after the Philosopher's Stone. That kind of love doesn't just come along by chance," Harry mused.

"But it's all so damn dodgy, Harry," Draco was shaking his head, even though he'd seen all the proof that he needed to convince himself that his own theory was indeed correct.

He'd seen the dust in the hands of that other Draco.

The other Draco who had screamed - not for his own lost son - but for Albus instead.

"Yes," Draco then breathed, "I know _now_ what's wrong with Albus. I am positive!"

"What?" Even Hermione had to ask, her mind seemingly overloaded and unable to come up with the solution.

"When my Soul shattered, part of it fled to where it knew it would be loved - to Scorpius.

"Another part, the part that was so happy for Scorpy, fled to Albus - the key to Scorpy's happiness.

"And that part that we just saw, that tortured, burnt Draco - that was the murderous part of me that exulted in the killing...not in the saving of his son's life!" Draco explained.

"_That_ is why the Baron saw the Ghost of Albus. That is why Albus insists he's seen the Ghost of Scorpius!"

"And?" Harry almost begged him to go on, as Draco had to stop and get a drink of water.

"My shattered Soul couldn't let go of either one of them, and it's bound all ... the possibilities ... of the boys together! This magic that Hermione mentioned, it's bound us ALL together, using _my Soul_ as the bloody _glue_!" Draco was almost shouting.

"And how do we use this to heal my mad son?" Harry interrupted, "Not to belittle YOUR predicament, though?" He added quickly.

"He's not mad, Harry," Draco looked almost manic with realization, shaking his head quickly, "He's _not_ mad! This magic is something unexplored, something new! What if...what if like Ghosts - it does _not_ answer to the normal rules of Magical Theory that we are taught?"

Draco paused again, his eyes impossibly wider as it came to him.

"What if this bizarre triad is using this magic - through Albus - since HE was the one that touched it all off? HE stole the Time-Turner and brought it to me! It was his idea to go back, and he formulated it out of his LOVE for his best friend! What if...what if..." Draco thought aloud, his thoughts racing, "What if every time Albus is in danger - physical danger - that this New Unknown Magic tries to protect him?"

"Yes!" Hermione agreed. "And?" She added, noting the new fear on Draco's face.

"What if its first line of defense is to push Albus into _another_ Timeline, since the destabilization of his own Timeline is what it's dealing with?" Draco asked. "Or what if," He shuddered, "It's also bound and determined to stabilize the others that are collapsing all around the one we know that fathered them?"

About then, Astoria decided to hit the Firewhiskey.

"Then that other Albus has to leave, or trade places, right? You can't have two of them together!" Harry asked, snapping his fingers. "Draco, that has to be it!"

"Parallel Universe Theory?" Hermione sighed, looking amazed, "No way, Harry! That's almost as woolly as Divination!"

But Draco just shoved the book at her.

"How fast can you read, Granger?" He sneered at her, looking for the life of him like a pleased little schoolboy who was trying to be cute.

"Now there's the Draco _I_ know!" Hermione actually laughed at him.

"But this leaves the question," Harry then said, pouring himself another drink and offering Draco one as well, "How do we find the REAL Albus, OUR Albus, the one that touched all of this off, and bring him back?"

No one said a word.

"If I'm right, he'll come back on his own," Draco finally spoke up. "When things are finally put right - once and for all."

"But how do we do that?" Astoria asked. "How do we determine when we've got the real Albus back?"

"His magical signature," Hermione replied, pecking her finger on the page she was reading. "Perhaps it might draw him back to us, like a lodestone - a magnet?"

"A compass," Harry nodded.

"This is just all so involved," Hermione fretted, "'Everything that _can_ occur, _does_ occur - in alternate universes,'" she read aloud, shaking her head and finally taking a drink as well. She pulled a face. "Oh, that's awful!" She grimaced.

"But, wouldn't that give rise to an almost infinite number of these universes?" Astoria asked.

"It would," Draco agreed. "We may well spend the rest of our lives trying to find Albus, if the lodestone theory is invalid. Like looking for a wand in a pile of kindling, unless I'm right?"

"To say nothing of all the new parallels that Albus may create himself," Hermione put in, "Think of what might happen if he makes a House Team?"

Harry shuddered. "I don't want to think about all the variables in a Quidditch game," he admitted. "And he'll try it, I know. It's all he and James talked about, and it's starting earlier now - first week, in fact."

"I have a thought," Draco then said, his eyes distant, as he seemed to realize something else. "When I Apparated, I was hearing voices again. I was hearing myself. I said I had to find Albus. I wanted to know if I'd seen Albus."

"Hearing voices isn't a good sign, Draco," Hermione advised, "Even in this mess, I don't think?"

"You said you had a connection to the Dark Lord's mind?" Draco asked Harry, and Harry nodded. "As we said, what if I have some connection to Albus? What if, like streams that all lead to the same river, this connection could be used to locate him?"

"Then you might be able to steer him to you - rather, an alternate 'you', in some other universe?" Harry guessed.

"And something tells me that any of those other Dracos is going to suddenly realize the same thing," Draco theorized further. "If Albus should confide in one of them, and he will - thinking he's gone mad - then that other me will know what to do. They'll also be thinking of some way to get their own Albus back!"

"You hope," Hermione shook her head.

"I think I...we...any Draco...will," Draco mused, "Since we all share the same shattered Soul."

"Scorpy had nightmares, Love," Astoria reminded her husband, "Like you did? Remember?"

"Nightmares?" Harry jerked his head up. "On their first night in the Castle?"

"Yes!" Hermione squeaked, "So did I! Connected?"

"Dreams of fire, and finding Albus?" Draco offered, turning to stare at the window again. It had grown quite dark outside. "I think this is all interconnected, somehow, as I said," Draco mused again. "If indeed this is all like a river, infinite rivers, then eventually they all empty into the same vast ocean. And if I'm right - if my Soul is indeed the binding force in all of this - then I can be the only one to find him."

"Work fast," Hermione fretted.

"I am," Draco agreed. "That boy hasn't left my thoughts since I saw him get on the train. I don't know why, or how I know this, but I do know this - we've got to sort this mess out by Christmas, at the latest. My dreams are of fire and trains, and we can't have our boys getting back on that train - not as things are." Draco finished his drink.

"Dear?" Astoria asked, "You should rest. You don't look well."

"An infinite number of universes, friends," Draco dared say, "And that damn train runs through every one of them!"

"Draco, you're exhausted. It's getting late. We should go and let you rest." Harry offered his hand.

Draco took it.

"Ah, there's no rest for the wicked, Harry," he sighed. "Don't ask me why, but somehow, I know I'm right. Something tells me that Albus has realized this too, and that he's on the right track."

"You seem overly confident?" Hermione wondered. "The connection?"

"Never, my dear, never underestimate a Malfoy!" Draco smiled at her.

"Just don't get yourself killed, Mr. Gluepot," Harry warned him, "Because if you're indeed right, then your shattered Soul may well be the only thing left holding _all_ of Creation together!"

Draco smirked.

"I can bear that responsibility with enormous fortitude!" He smirked at them.


	9. Chapter 9 Dead to the World

**IX**

**Dead to the World**

_**"Heaven Queen, cover me in all that's blue.**_

_**Little boy, such precious joy,**_

_**is dead to the world."**_

_**- Inspired by Nightwish: Album-"Century Child,"Track - "Dead to the World"**_

_-_**_O_**_---------_

**I**

**The Ghosts of Hogwarts**

That Friday night, Albus Potter went to sleep in his "normal" bed in Slytherin House, right next to Scorpius Malfoy. At Potter Manor in Godric's Hollow, Harry and Ginny Potter went to bed as usual. Far to the southwest, Draco and Hermione Malfoy retired for the evening in their palatial master suite of Malfoy Manor. And near Ottery St. Catchpole, Arthur Weasley lay awake late in the deserted Burrow.

"This isn't supposed to be like this," the old man kept telling himself. "Molly should be here, not locked up in St. Mungo's because of Ron..." He then sniffled. "Oh, _Ron, Fred_!" He cried, "This _can't_ be real!" And as he did on many a night, Arthur Weasley cried himself to sleep, knowing that the next morning held no promise of anything different.

The only difference that Albus noticed in the whole of the Slytherin Chambers was that there was now an extra bed for Martin Baddock in their dormitory. _But he didn't ask for Slytherin, even though he went Ravenclaw, _Albus thought, knowing that he himself had asked to be placed there for the sake of his friend._ Maybe that's how we both wound up in Hufflepuff in that last place?_

"Don't forget, Quidditch tryouts first thing in the morning," Scorpius said, as the boys all turned in for the night.

"Like two First Years are gonna make the team," Albus reminded him, realizing that 'tomorrow' must be Saturday. _Not that _that_ means anything to me_, Albus thought, _my luck, I'll jump, slide, or whatever it is, and end up in last Wednesday_!

"Well, there's always subs or B-team," Scorpius replied, "Not that I think we're B-material! I'm goin' all out for Seeker! I jus' wanna play!"

"No one _cares_ about the B-team," Zabini reminded him.

"Dad does," Scorpius insisted. "He thinks it's brilliant that there's subs and a B-team so we can all have a chance to play, or at least play in Higgins' class."

"Barkin' mad," Nott mumbled.

"Go to sleep," Mauser hissed in annoyance.

Later that night, Albus dreamed that he and Scorpius were on the Hogwarts Express again, and surely there must have been some mistake - there wasn't anyone else on board. But before he could point this out to Scorpius, the train suddenly exploded into a searing fireball.

"Fire!" Albus was screaming, throwing himself at his best friend and knocking him to the floor, falling on him, as he tried to cast a Shield Charm.

"Come with me, boys," the Bloody Baron was then telling them, as they once again found themselves walking back up to the Castle, away from the smoking wreckage. But when they reached the front doors, they all passed right through them! The Castle itself seemed to shiver, and then they were confronted by the other three Hogwarts House Ghosts and Peeves. A few others were there, too, coming into the Receiving Hall from here and there.

"This cannot be," the Fat Friar of Hufflepuff observed, staring at the two boys. "It has disrupted the very nature of all Creation."

"Truly," Sir Nicholas agreed.

"But what can we do?" The Grey Lady asked. "When what was done, then undone, is _still_ taking place?"

"This is nothing like that year with the Granger girl," Peeves spoke up, lacking his usual mischievousness and sounding serious. "All that zipping around she did in classes!"

"You can feel it, no matter _when_ you look to," Moaning Myrtle put in, giving the two Ghostly boys a giggling smile. "You know, if you decide to stay here, you're welcome to share my toilet?"

"This is just _not_ right?!" Albus gasped. After giving himself a good looking over and finding that he was glowing; Scorpius was forced to agree!

"I...I think we're Ghosts?" Scorpius wondered aloud.

"I thought we said that?" Sir Nicholas smiled at them.

"Have Podmore and the Hunt been able to localize the disturbances yet?" The Friar asked. "It seems like we sent them out ages ago?"

"Who knows?" The Grey Lady replied, "What is time to us?"

"We have to find it," Professor Binns offered, as he came drifting down the stairs. "Even the Founders never attempted anything like this! That Gorman girl and Perkins went back and formed a perfect Loop in Time, but this is just _completely_ wrong!"

"Pardon me, sir? But _what_, exactly?" Scorpius spoke up. "Are we dead?"

"Yes and no," Sir Nicholas offered, "And you're far too young for this. You've been tampered with!"

The boys blinked at each other, for some reason not feeling as terrified as they thought they should have. It was as if someone else were in control of them - reassuring them - that this was only a bad dream.

"Explain?" Albus asked politely.

"Time itself is destabilizing," The Grey Lady replied. "Would that I could contact my mother! She might be able to solve this riddle, for I was never so clever as she."

"A Time-Turner?" Albus muttered, which got their attention at once. "I...I had one, he told me?" He asked. "But - no? I didn't?"

The Ghosts all exchanged a long look.

"He looks like Perkins," Binns observed, making the boys wonder who 'Perkins' was. "How did HE get a Time-Turner?"

"But how can he remember _both_?" Myrtle asked, "Did and didn't?"

"Because the laws that govern all things do not apply to him," The Friar gasped, as if seeing Albus properly for the first time. He then made to lay hands on the boy, but his hands passed right through him, just as a Ghost might pass through a living person.

"This is not possible!" Peeves squeaked in surprise, giving Sir Nicholas a punch to the arm.

"OUCH!" Nicholas gasped.

"See?" Peeves said.

Then the Baron drifted right through Albus. For just an instant, he seemed to vanish. Then he reappeared, separating from Albus in a scattering of Ghostly dust that vanished before it hit the floor.

"This boy isn't dead!" Binns exclaimed. "If he was, you'd have knocked one another down!"

"But he _is_ dead," The Baron disagreed, "They both are."

"I don't get it?" Scorpius asked. "Are we dead or _not_? We can't be both, can we?"

"They are _not_," Another Baron then spoke up, and they all turned to see another copy of the Baron standing there. His glow, however, was not quite right. The initial Baron noticed this at once. "He's from another Plane!" He gasped, as the Ghosts all seemed to realize something. "Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy were killed, then," the original Baron informed them. "But someone brought them back?" His Doppelganger nodded at him. He then stared off into space, as if scanning the staircases for some sign of a student out of bed. "Even now, their bodies are alive and well and asleep in Slytherin House."

"Do not touch the Potter boy," the Grey Lady then said, "If indeed he has broken the Planes of Existence, then all may well be swept into the unknown!"

"The death of a child, especially one of my House, is always a tragic thing," the original Baron offered.

"But he's not a Slytherin," the copy-Baron disagreed. "He is a Gryffindor!"

"No, he's not?" Sir Nicholas countered. "I know my House."

"He's a Hufflepuff, yet he's not?" The Friar thought aloud, as the Ghosts all looked at one another.

"Where _is_ that Headless Hunt?" Binns complained. "You'd think with all the Ghosts in Britain out looking, we could have found the disturbance by now?"

"We're not even sure what we're looking for," Sir Nicholas pointed out.

"The last time I felt like this," Peeves put in, "Was when wee Potter blasted the Dark Lord during the War!"

"We are looking for a Soul, then," The Friar mused, "Or a fragment thereof. After all, aren't we all just echoes of tortured Souls? Wasn't Potter destroying fragments of a shattered Soul?"

"We are not as the Dark Lord was, though," Sir Nicholas disagreed. "We chose to leave an imprint here, in this world. We did nothing dark to tear our Souls apart!"

"I believe I am even more shattered then," the Barons both observed, in stereo. "Perhaps, if this boy is at the center of it all somehow, then we...I...can keep an eye on him until this mystery is solved?"

"Hang on!" Albus cut in. "You think this has something to do with me thinking I was mad - when everything kept changing around me? Only I knew it, though!"

"_I_ thought you were just mad," Scorpius nodded helpfully.

"The Possessed Ones - the Unspeakables - are supposed to prevent this from happening," The Friar reminded them in a dark tone. "Someone in that service has failed in his or her duty!"

"Unspeakables?" Both boys gasped.

"Quiet!" The Barons both snapped at the Friar.

"Is _that _what they do? Travel around with Time-Turners?" Albus asked.

"What's an 'Unspeakable'?" Scorpius asked.

"Weird guys at the Ministry," Albus replied. "Dad doesn't even know what they do!"

"They keep all that must be on track," Binns agreed, "But we are not to reveal such secrets."

"There are no more Time-Turners," the Grey Lady reminded them, "And no Founders to help create more."

"Or one of them has violated the Sacred Precepts of his office," Sir Nicholas added, "To make sure that nothing that _was_, may be changed, thus altering the shape of Time."

"Only one who has been driven mad, but I cannot say by what, would dare to undo all that was done," the Friar shook his head, "And no Dark Wizard has _ever_ penetrated that Society. Not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Tha's because ol' Voldy never could see past his own reflection," Peeves cackled, just as they all heard hooves in the distance, drawing closer.

"We've found it!" Podmore then declared triumphantly, as the Headless Hunt arrived.

"Whoa!" the boys gasped, staring at the Ghostly rider who was carrying his head under his arm.

"There are...ripples...of some kind, for lack of a better word," Podmore explained, "coming from Malfoy Manor, in Wiltshire!"

"Tha's _**my**_ house!" Scorpius exclaimed.

The Ghosts all considered this for a moment.

"The first Malfoy boy was into the Dark Arts," Myrtle offered, "But how could he do this? He didn't even have the nerve to kill Dumbledore, remember?"

Albus and Scorpius exchanged a look. Of all the stories they'd each heard, neither of them had ever heard that one.

Then Podmore noticed them.

"That boy," He pointed at Albus, "died there. There is still a faint echo of him in the Manor."

"Along with a Soul that cries out louder than the Wailing Widow of Kent," another Horseman offered, "And it cries out the name 'Albus', although it cannot see the imprint to save itself."

The Castle shivered just a bit then, and a small stone fell from the ceiling in a cloud of dust.

"It is begun," The Grey Lady observed, turning back to Albus. "If in this realm where Ghosts and Humans both go to regenerate, things are beginning to collapse, then the very Universe cannot be far behind it!"

"Oh, stop showing off your education!" Peeves blew a raspberry at her, but he backed off as the Barons both glared at him.

"But what...what IS this place?" Albus asked. "It looks like Hogwarts, but it isn't, is it?"

"It's not Hogwarts - least, not _our_ Hogwarts," Scorpius pointed out.

"This is what some call the Ether," The Grey Lady replied. "Even Ghosts tire. It is the place where all sentient things go to regenerate."

"Some leave at daybreak, some do not," one of the Barons added; Albus didn't know which. "Some will cross the Black River, while some will turn back."

"You have any idea where we are?" Scorpius whispered to his friend.

"None," Albus muttered. "Maybe Rosie was right about me?"

"Albus Potter," The Friar then turned to him, "You are the one who transcends all of this. I do not know why, or how, but something about you has endangered all of Creation. All that we see, and what used to - and may yet - _**be **_... is in danger of vanishing into the shadows of Time! Yea, even this place, where Time does not go!"

Albus knew he'd heard that turn of phrase somewhere before, and it took him a moment to remember where.

"The Sorting Hat!" Albus gasped. "It sang that in a song when we were Sorted!"

"The Hat transcends even all of _us_," The original Baron nodded. "It is heavily Magical - almost alive - from the power that the four Founders poured into it!"

"Then you must ask the Hat, Albus," The Grey Lady reasoned, "For if _it_ knew this was coming, then it must know what must be done to stop it!"

"But how does he do that, if we're dead?" Scorpius asked.

"The barriers are falling," The Grey Lady mused, as the Castle shivered again. Dust motes drifted in the moonlit air. "One of these breaches is what is allowing your Souls to be in both Planes at once - the Planes of the Living, and of the Dead," she explained. "But that which is binding all of this together is weakening."

"So that means we have to wake up, go back, or something," Scorpius put in, "and ask the Hat what to do, about whatever it was that someone else did, that messed up Albus' big event?"

"Huh?" Albus squeaked.

"Essentially, yes," Sir Nicholas nodded.

"Great, seeing as how I've got no bloody clue what's going on," Albus sighed, "Or what any of you are talking about."

"What you call 'Reality', little Slytherin," The Grey Lady explained, "Is because you perceive the passing of Time. Events happen, they end, and you move on to the next hour, day, week, month, and year - until your Mortal Life is spent. When that occurs, you either remain in that Reality, as a Part of us has, or you move on."

"You become a Ghost, or you go to the Afterlife?" Scorpius asked, and the Ghosts all nodded.

"But to us who have chosen to walk the Earth, in what our Living Selves once called 'Reality'," The Grey Lady went on, "Time loses all meaning. You are, to us, the same child who leaves after seven of his years, as you were when you first came and were Sorted."

"So this is all a dream?" Albus asked again.

"But what are your dreams, but the wanderings of the Soul freed of the resting body?" Sir Nicholas asked.

"I wish Rose was here," Albus sighed.

"Hang on," Scorpius cut in, "I think I got it! So these Unspeakables, they're not Human? Not _alive_?!" He gasped.

Albus looked up sharply. "No, they're alive!" He realized, "But like he said, they're possessed! They're real people, but they have a Spirit of some kind - something from here - inside of them? Telling them what's up? So they can use some other kind of Magic?"

"Very good, child," Sir Nicholas smiled at him.

"Now, you can't let him take that information back to the waking, living world!" Binns protested. "You know the rules!"

"Rules?" Albus asked. "You have rules?"

"Just as underage witches and wizards have the Trace," The Friar took over, "which tells the Ministry if underage magic were to be used, so do Ghosts in your Reality. The Unspeakables know of all Ghostly activity, and they monitor it - lest someone undo all of what has been done, with knowledge he should not have."

"Time means nothing to us," The Baron repeated. "Just as it has lost all meaning to you both."

"But we can't be alive AND dead," Albus protested again.

"You can, when what _you_ call 'the past' was altered," Podmore cut in. "If you'll all excuse us? We've got to go back and see if there's anything we can come up with to minimize the damage emanating from Malfoy Manor!"

"Funny, how he looks like Draco," Myrtle commented, "But then again, the one who looks like Harry is starting to look more like Draco, too, the longer I look at him? Soon, they'll be twins!"

"This is a Magic I have never seen before," The Friar declared in wonder. "What connects these boys!"

"So we're both Ghosts - who don't know what Time is anymore - and we're _still_ both alive?" Scorpius concluded, "Because someone has the past all buggered up?"

"And we're still hooked up with our own Ghosts somehow?" Albus reasoned. "Possessed by...each other?"

"Excellent!" The Grey Lady beamed at them. "You were killed, but then what _was_, was altered. Now you live again."

The boys froze.

"Aspie, you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Scorpius asked, his voice full of dread.

"I think I am, Sting," Albus replied, the nickname that Rose had mentioned coming naturally to him, although he'd never spoken it before.

"We've just become Unspeakables!" Both boy-Ghosts then gasped.

"WAKE UP!" Someone else then shouted at them, as the Ghostly Castle shook violently, raining dusty debris down on them.

The boys glanced up, just in time to see someone coming down the staircase that led up to the Headmaster's office. He was dressed all in black, as if to travel, and he glowed with only a fraction of the Deadlight that the Ghosts did. He looked almost real - alive - and in his wake, he left a cloud of dust.

"_Dad_?" Scorpius breathed.

**"WAKE UP!"** Draco Malfoy shouted at them again.

**II**

** Unspeakables**

**"AAAIIIGGGHHH!!!!"** Both Albus and Scorpius screamed, as they sat bolt upright in bed.

"Oh, not again!"

"Man, go back tuh sleep..."

"F*$%#' nightmares!"

"Every bloody night..."

The other boys all complained. Then, as soon as they'd said it, they all rolled over and went back to sleep.

"Aspie?" Scorpius gasped.

"Sting?" Albus panted.

"How much d'ya remember?"

"All of it!"

"Me too!"

"Merlin's pants!"

"What time is it?" Scorpius asked.

"Three," Albus replied, jumping out of bed and grabbing his wand. He studied it, and it was the right one. Scorpius did the same.

"Green footie pyjamas?" Scorpius shook his head.

"No, yellow - that's Creevey in Gryffindor," Albus corrected him.

"That's you, here, now!" Scorpius laughed.

"Hell," Albus snorted, realizing that he did indeed have ridiculous sleepwear in that particular Reality.

"_This_ is what's been wrong with you!" Scorpius declared.

"I wasn't mad! I was shifting into other Realities!" Albus almost crowed in relief. "Thing is, now, we gotta figure out how. The Ghosts just told us why, seeing as how we're technically dead and runnin' on borrowed time!"

"Their Castle was crumbling. This could all end any minute, if they're right?" Scorpius wondered, looking all around. "If we're supposed to be dead, and someone went back..." He then stopped.

Both boys remembered who had literally driven them out of that Ghostly Castle.

"Dad!" - "Mr. Malfoy!" They said together.

Not wanting to wake the others again, the boys sat up in the Common Room well into the early morning. They were so distracted that even the gaze of the Portrait of Salazar Slytherin didn't bother them, as they sought to find the answer as to why Albus - but not Scorpius - seemed to be randomly changing Realities.

"The first time, I think, was when Hagrid went to put you in a boat," Albus told Scorpius. "What do you remember?"

"I got a splinter from the rail," Scorpius replied. "And when I yanked it out, you were looking at me all weird?"

"That's because you freaked out and started yelling at me," Albus retorted, but Scorpius shook his head, denying it.

"The next time, I cut my finger with my steak knife," Albus recalled. "Then I was suddenly at the Gryffindor table, and you were making fun of me?" He paused. "Sting," He paused, I gotta tell you this." Scorpius looked inquiringly at him. "When I was in the Gryffindor Reality, you hated me. You said I did something to you, dunno whut, but you hated me for it. You still do - there, I mean."

Scorpius looked hurt. "Aspie, I can't believe there's _anywhere_ where I could ever hate _you_," he said sincerely. "You were the first kid to ever be nice to me, you and Rosie." His face turned a bit pink. "I...I never had any friends before I met you in Diagon Alley that one day, that day Dad bought us ice cream? You remember, that day your dad and my mum...I mean, your Aunt Hermione, came looking for you and found us?"

"I remember it was jus' my dad, and he was angry," Albus shook his head, but the more he thought about it, the more he thought he could remember Aunt Hermione being there. Albus concentrated...

*******

"Harry! Over there!" Hermione called, "At Fortescue's!"

Harry Potter looked up, and his eyes flashed with murder when he saw whom his son was sitting with. "Malfoy!" He snarled.

"_Harry_!" Hermione interrupted him, "I know it didn't work out between us, but don't blame him!"

"He _hurt_ you!" Harry snapped, "ALBUS!" Harry was yelling, "What do you think you're doing with them?"

"Oh, sit down, Har-," Draco started to say, but he choked as he saw Hermione. "H-hello," he managed, looking away.

"How dare you speak to her?" Harry demanded of Draco. "After you pretended to be her friend, helped her after Ron's death, led her on, then left her and Rose to..."

"HARRY!" Hermione cut in, "I _asked_ him to leave!"

"Sit down, Harry," Draco sighed. "I'm buying, my good man. And perhaps you'll give me a chance to explain?"

"Mummy!" little Scorpius was crying in delight, as the small boy flung himself at the only woman he'd ever known as a mother. Hermione caught him up and held him tightly, all the while staring over his shoulder at Draco.

"Draco?" Hermione then asked, as she put Scorpius down to finish his ice cream. "How...how have you been?"

"Desolate," Draco replied, looking ill.

There was an awkward silence as they just stood, staring at one another.

Then, before either Harry or the boys could even register it, Draco took her in his arms and kissed her. It was a kiss that - both felt - had been waiting for years to happen. It was a hard kiss of desperate reunion, filled with regret, yet one filled with hope at the same time.

"_GROSS_!" Both boys shouted.

"M-Malfoy?" Harry asked, just as someone began shouting from the alleyway...

"MURDER! There's been murder!"

*******

"I can remember...different things?" Albus breathed in wonder, "If I try hard? That's NOT how it happened, though!"

"I wish I knew my real Mum, sometimes," Scorpius sighed. "I remember I cried a lot when Mummy left with Rosie. Daddy said she - my real mum - died when I was born." Scorpius sniffled. "Stupid! I'm gonna cry like 'Rion does!"

"It's OK to cry, when you're hurt," Albus told him. "I cried a lot, here the last couple days. Thought I was mad, you know?"

"You're not mad," the Baron reminded them, appearing through the wall near the Portrait. "You're just adapting to your newfound Magic. And in time, for you, that is, your tears will soon dry."

"We're trying to figure out what makes me ... jump?" Albus offered.

"You remember it, then?" The Baron asked softly, all traces of his frightening and manic stare gone.

"All of it, sir," Scorpius nodded.

"Blood," The Baron said simply. "Think about it, Albus. When your blood was spilled, you saw things change?"

Albus gasped.

"When I fell off the fence!" Albus exclaimed. "And then my head healed! Then another Albus - the Hufflepuff - he had a paper cut! I've been trading places with another Albus!"

"Things that could have been - but weren't," the Baron nodded. "For many children who are to grow up to be - who already are - Unspeakable - the adaptation can often lead to madness when it comes too soon. I think you have narrowly avoided it, though?" He actually smiled at them. "With some help?"

"All this thinking makes my head hurt," Albus declared.

"I think it's because you ... we ... can remember things," Scorpius mused, a silly grin on his face. "See, I don't think it happened like that to me, 'cause I was happy with stuff, jus' like it is? I got my Mum, Orion, Dad, a big family - all the stuff I never had when it was..."

Scorpius paused, suddenly lightheaded.

Albus reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Stay with me, Sting," said firmly, "Don't let it run off with ya!"

"The splinter," Scorpius gasped, "my blood, your blood? Some kinda Magic? Blood Magic? The Friar didn't know about it?" Scorpius closed his eyes. "Her name was Europa. She was an American witch?"

"For now," The Baron added.

"No," Scorpius then shook his head. "Her name was Astoria Greengrass, and I grew up all alone in the Manor. No one liked me, but for you!"

"That's gotta be the thing with us - with Unspeakables," Albus then realized, "We can remember what happened, but we can remember what MIGHT have happened, too?"

"This is freakin' weird," Scorpius shook his head. "An' you were really IN IT? Like, _in_ another Hogwarts - not jus' rememberin' it?"

"Welcome to my world," Albus sighed happily.

"I think we're more connected than havin' jus' Brother-Wands," Scorpius mused, looking silly as he said it.

"Unspeakables always travel in pairs," The Baron pointed out. "That is common knowledge."

Albus blinked. "What did you see in DADA, at the duel?"

"Ghosts," Scorpius then smiled, "Of us!"

"Of course," The Baron agreed. "Someone is coming," he then said quickly, vanishing into thin air.

"You're up awfully early, boys?" Professor Urquhart observed, as he entered the Common Room, "Or is it late?" He then gave Albus an odd look.

"Told you it was the pyjamas," Scorpius mumbled.

"Either way, you can still catch a few hours sleep before breakfast," Urquhart suggested. "Quidditch tryouts, must I remind you?" He offered. "I wouldn't want to see either of you bring shame to Slytherin House, now, would we?" He suggested in a sly tone.

"No, sir!" Both boys agreed, as they headed back to their dormitory.

"I should hope not," Urquhart whispered, looking around the room as his breath came out in a foggy puff and he pulled his black cloak tighter.

As he left the chill room, he didn't notice the slight bit of dust on the loveseat cushions.

_-_**_O_**_---------_

At three in the morning, Draco Malfoy bolted awake in the bed that he shared with his wife, Astoria. _**"WAKE UP!"**_ the words still echoed in his ears.

"He's very close," Draco realized, "Albus is very close to the solution!" He then got out of bed, but stumbled as a wave of dizziness overtook him. For just an instant, he felt as if something had come back to him. "They're collapsing," Draco thought, "The Timelines, as Albus leaves them behind, are collapsing behind him!"

How he knew it, Draco had no idea. He simply knew.

He was up for the rest of the night, and when he finally realized what Albus was going to have to do, he slammed his book in frustration.

"But there's no way _to_ DO it!" He growled.

_-_**_O_**_---------_

At #12 Grimmauld Place, Harry awoke at three in the morning. He was sensing a presence, yet the miniature Sneak-o-scope by his bed was still. "Come back to me, Albie," he whispered, watching Ginny sleep. "I can't tell her, not yet," Harry thought. "Not until we're totally sure."

_-_**_O_**_---------_

"Have you been up all night?" Ron Weasley asked his wife, as he entered the kitchen with a hungry Hugo in tow.

"Most of it," Hermione answered, instantly vanishing the large book she'd been reading. "I had the most awful dream about Albus."

"Is Albie still all yumpy?" Hugo asked.

"Yes, but not for much longer, I don't think," Hermione answered cryptically. "What would you both like for the usual late snack?"

_-_**_O_**_---------_

"Always was nervous and jumpy, Albus was," Molly Weasley was lecturing her husband, as she made breakfast at the Burrow that next morning. "Then Sorted into Slytherin! What IS the matter with that silly Hat?" She asked. "Then falling in with that...that _Malfoy _boy?" She went on, as Arthur held up a finger and sought to get a word in.

He failed.

"What IS my daughter thinking? And Rose?" Molly went on, as she served up a plateful of food. "Granted, the Hat wanted Harry in Slytherin, but..." she paused for a breath.

"I don't know what we'd do without you, dear!" Arthur finally managed, with a smile.

_-_**_O_**_---------_

There wasn't much business at the Ministry of Magic on the weekends, but on this Saturday morning, two men were putting in some overtime on the lowest floor of the Department of Mysteries. Not that timecards mattered to them anyway - as if Time itself did.

"Are you sure about those two boys?" One man in black asked the other, as he carefully walked past a stone archway where a plain tapestry waved in an imaginary wind.

The room was cool, almost cold, and a scattering of fine dust blew across the floor at the archway's base. The tapestry was somehow attached to the archway, but there were neither hooks nor seams to be seen where the cloth met the stone. From the archway, disembodied voices called in odds tones of confusion, and hushed whispers.

"The recorders picked up the word 'Malfoy' more than once," the seated man replied, gesturing with his wand towards what looked like an old-fashioned Gramophone with a huge horn pointed at the archway.

"And Potter?"

"Him too."

The first man sighed. "It's never been like this before. Has anyone been able to trace the disturbances to their origins?"

"No, and frankly, Podmore and his Headless Hunt are beginning to annoy me," the seated man replied. "There's a ring of frozen vegetation all around Malfoy Manor. They're circling the place for some reason, almost like moths to a flame. They're hiding something."

"They're ordinary Ghosts," the first man growled. "What can they possibly do?"

"Other than freeze a man to death in his tracks?" The seated man replied. Then he looked thoughtful. "We're understaffed down here as it is, you know. There haven't been any new _'folks like us'_, let's say? ...to come along since the end of the War? Then why are we so bound and determined to prevent our two newest recruits from...'_becoming_'?"

"They're just children," the first man answered, a little catch in his voice as he pulled back his hood to reveal his light mouse-brown hair and sincere, perfect, childlike face. "I was sixteen when they took me during the Final Battle. I had to give up everything, and I was offered no choice other than death! I won't have those two little boys put through what I had to face! I won't have them dealing with this kind of horror! Not yet!" His voice rose shrilly, like that of an excited teenager.

The seated man flicked his wand at the archway, bowed his head, and mumbled not a Spell - but a polite request.

The tapestry stayed still, and a cloudy image of a man in black formed up within the stone borders.

"If _HE_ figures it out, what those two boys really are," the seated man added, "Then it might become a moot point. Sweets?" He offered a box.

"Doubtful," the youthful man countered. "And no, not after the Puking Pastilles! Even though the Collapsing has begun, and things are beginning to reconverge into how they once were, I don't think he'll be able to kill them. "_Potter_," he sounded almost misty at saying the name, "has been sliding between the Barriers at the slightest injury. Last time it was a paper cut from the Hufflepuff-Potter." He then slammed his fist on the table in frustration, rattling the recording device as they both stared at the archway.

"Death is on the Quidditch Pitch today," the seated man observed, "Or the Arch wouldn't show us this."

"He's back in Slytherin," the first man observed, staring intently at the tall, intense man in the Archway who reminded him very much of Professor Severus Snape. "What is it about the position of Potions Master that warrants such awful fashion?" He wondered, as he watched the man escorting his two favorite First Years to the Pitch.

"Let's just watch and wait, and see if Albie collapses this one when he leaves it," the seated man suggested, running a hand through his red hair.

"Now boys," Professor Urquhart was saying, "Higgins has a surprise for you today. In light of tryouts, and your preexisting skills, he's contacted your families to have your own broomsticks sent - but just for tryouts!" He added darkly, as he took in the surprised looks on Albus and Scorpius' faces.

"Miles!" Professor Higgins greeted them, as they arrived on the Pitch. Almost every student who wasn't trying out was there to watch, and there were a great deal of hopefuls at the edge of the Pitch already.

"Terrence," Urquhart greeted him, "Could you kindly transfigure the boys' _clothing_," he snorted at the boys' Muggle attire of short pant and plain green T-shirts. "The last time we let the Firsties try it, we had them suddenly finding themselves flying around in naught but their pants?"

Albus was reminded of his worry of finding himself naked in the Great Hall again, but he had to smile as Higgins transfigured his clothing into a green and silver Quidditch outfit.

"That's everyone," Higgins observed, as he blew his whistle. "First up, Seekers! Double elimination, so you two at once. However..." he added slyly, gesturing to the returning veteran players. "There will be a real practice game going on with the hopeful Beaters and others, so the danger of being hit with a Bludger is very real!"

Albus gulped. "I think I've been here before," he fretted. "And I'm more Chaser than Seeker, I think?"

Scorpius' eyes went distant. "I think if I get hurt, I just might 'jump' with you," he fretted. "You said there was a Hogwarts where I hated you, though? What if I land there?"

"After last night," Albus whispered back, "I don't think tha's gonna be a problem. I think all of the different 'us's', he made up the word, are starting to realize that something is really, really wrong and that we have to stick together."

"First up, Slytherin Seekers," Higgins called out, as the game began.

"We should be going for the Hat," Scorpius reminded Albus, as they set off after the Snitch.

"We can do that after we're done...watch out!" Albus yelled, as a Bludger just missed Scorpius.

"You get the feeling we've done this before?" Scorpius asked, as he spotted the Snitch and they zoomed off after it.

"I got it!" Albus was yelling.

"Back off, loser!" Scorpius laughed.

In the stands, Draco and Hermione Malfoy had just arrived and gotten seats next to Professor Urquhart. "Wonderful things, Portkeys," Draco observed, as Hermione passed him the Ominoculars. "Are they playing with each other, or trying to really catch it?"

"They're playing, dear," Hermione replied, trying to get Orion situated.

"Go, Scoh-pee-us!" Orion was yelling.

"Watch out for Bludgers!" Urquhart suggested, his lips moving rapidly and his eyes glazed.

"Mine!"  
"Mine!"

Both boys were closing in on the Snitch, oblivious to what was going on below them.

"Look out!" Draco stood up and shouted.

The Bludger just grazed Albus' cheek, the whistle of it deafening him in one ear...

Blood flew.

Two hands in different gloves closed on the Snitch.

"Throw the damn Quaffle, Potter!" A rather large and nasty looking girl in a black and yellow robe was shouting at Albus. She had a Beater's bat, and she look intimidating.

"No!" Albus breathed, blowing blood out his nose, "Not now!" He yelled, as he threw away the Quaffle hard. A bell sounded.

"Hufflepuff scores!" Someone called out.

"Duck!" Someone yelled, and Albus felt the Bludger slam into his back. He coughed, spraying blood again, and was suddenly jerked sideways. He felt himself fall, but a hand with a glove like his own caught his wrist.

"Albus!" Scorpius shouted at him, as Albus looked up to see a Scorpius in black and gold gripping him by the wrist.

Then the other Bludger grazed Scorpius' cheek as the intimidating girl hit the first one away.

Albus saw blood.

Scorpius was bleeding.

Reality was bleeding.

"It wasn't me!" Scorpius was then screaming at him, as Albus felt that same hand over his, and something struggling within his closed fist. Tiny golden wings were sticking out of his glove. "Aspie don't let go! Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry! I wasn't me then!"

Albus had just enough time to take in the green of his best friend's robes, the confused sneer on his face, and the scarlet of his own robes before he sneezed again, blowing blood from his injured nose.

Still, their hands both gripped one another.

They rolled, there was the **CRACK!** of a Beater's bat, and fiery pain exploded in Albus' head.

_Bleeding..._Albus thought, as both boys fell, neither willing to let go, but both for different reasons.

"Sweet Merlin!" Scorpius swore, "It's not...you're a Gryff-...? Aspie, hang on! I'm with you!"

"Arresto Momentum!" Someone was shouting, as the turf rushed up to meet them, but slower.

"Potter, I'm here! I came with you!" Scorpius managed, clutching at the green sleeve of his best friend's robe, just before the whole world went black as the boys hit the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Hmmmmm!" Urquhart observed.

"Draco!" Hermione screamed, as they both stared at the clearing dust.

There were no boys on the ground - only two riderless broomsticks hovering above two sets of abandoned robes and boots.

In the dust lay a pair of busted eyeglasses.

"Find him," Draco muttered, "Find me, wherever you've gone, boys!"

At the Ministry of Magic, deep within in the Department of Mysteries, the stone archway creaked and showed only the slowly waving tapestry again. From beyond it, voices called.

"Where'd they _go_?" The seated man wondered.

"They're dead to the world, Fred," Colin sighed. "It's too late to turn back now."


	10. Chapter 10 X Dark Mirror M

**X**

**True Slytherins**

**Dark Mirror**

**-O----------**

Voices were speaking.

Through the fog, he could hear them.

"Well it's not just every day that two naked boys fall out of the sky, Harry!"

He tried to move, but soon found that it hurt too much.

"How are they?" A more familiar voice asked. "Are they going to be all right?"

"A few scrapes, bruises, and the stray broken bone - nothing I couldn't fix in a few minutes," the first lady replied. "I think they really did fall from...somewhere."

"The resemblance is uncanny," someone else noted, as Albus struggled to get his eyes open.

_Hospital, again!_ He groaned, blinking and realizing that he didn't have his glasses. He assumed that the flesh-and-white-colored fuzzy shape to his left was Scorpius, in bed as well, but he couldn't be sure. _'Naked boys falling out of the sky'_? He wondered, "Oh, no," he groaned out loud.

"The dark-headed one's awake!" Some lady exclaimed, and Albus could see the shape moving towards him. Once again, he felt the magical scans penetrating him.

"I don't care how much they _look_ like _us_," Albus then heard his father saying, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Then Harry Potter's voice turned cold. "I want to know _who_ they are, _where _they came from, and _why_ they're here! And I want to know it _now_!" He paused. "Why isn't the little one reacting?"

_Doesn't he know me_?! Albus gasped.

"Because he probably can't see you, Potter," that lady spoke up again. "Scans show he's badly nearsighted, and you're too far away. Let me see your glasses so I can duplicate the prescription."

Albus heard a muttered word, a soft popping sound, and suddenly the world snapped into focus as glasses were gently fitted to his face. He yawned, wincing in pain, and opened his green eyes all the way.

"Dad!" He gasped.

But Albus got a shock as his father rounded on him, pointing a wand that the boy didn't recognize - right at his nose. He looked closer at his father.

Harry Potter was dressed all in black, his businesslike robes trimmed all in scarlet and gold. His black hair was messy and shot through with gray. The glasses were the same, but the eyes behind them looked harder. His face was lined, his brow creased, as his shoulders set as if he were carrying the weight of the world. As Albus stared again at the long and well-used wand pointed at his face, he saw his father's hand tremble just a bit. Then he saw the ring.

It had the most ugly black stone mounted in it that Albus had ever seen. Why anyone would have wanted to mount it in a gold setting and wear it, the boy didn't understand. It looked too large for a ring setting, and it was even cracked down the middle.

"_Give_ me a reason!" Harry snarled at him, pulling back and turning to the Mediwitch that Albus didn't know. As he did, Albus saw the shimmering swirl of a paisley patterned cloak billowing behind him, as parts of his father seemed to vanish beneath it.

Albus looked around, and saw his Uncle Neville and Godbrother Teddy Lupin. Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were there, as well as James - who looked terrified.

"Dad? It's me - Albus?" Albus whispered, shaking his head, but this version of his father apparently wasn't done with him.

"I don't know who you _think_ you are, boy," Harry said coldly to Albus, sticking the tip of the Elder Wand up to the frightened boy's nose again, "But after I keep you locked up in here for an hour or so, and the Polyjuice Potion you're obviously taking wears off, you'll regret that you were ever _born _- much less daring to come here, impersonating _my son_!"

"D-dad?" Albus stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's me! I'm Albus! Really, I am! Why don't you believe me?"

"_YOU are _**_NOT_**_ my son_!"

The look on Harry's face, his harsh words, and the rejection were more than Albus could stand. His father had never spoken him to like that, and he couldn't take it, given what he'd just been through. In every other alternate Hogwarts he'd visited, his father had always known him. Albus began to cry, turning hopefully to his big brother, James.

"James?" Harry nodded to him, "You all right?"

James nodded and glared at Albus, his brown eyes flashing murder and his deep auburn hair looking like it might catch on fire in anger.

"My little brother _died_ when he was nine years old!" James retorted hotly. "And he'd _never_ Sort into Slytherin! Dad disbanded it after the War, you sick b*st*rd! There _is_ no Slytherin House anymore!"

Albus slumped back in his bed, glancing over at Scorpius, who had yet to awaken.

"No..." Albus groaned, finding that he couldn't do anything other than just squirm and stretch. He seemed to be Sticky Charmed to the bed.

"Make sure they live, Jane," he told the Mediwitch. "Keep them comfortable. I'll send Seamus and Dean up to guard them. In the meantime, I want a comprehensive workup on them - traces of PolyJuice residuals, Age Regression Potion, any transfiguration Charms," he nodded at Teddy, "and a full Magical and medical workup. I want to know how two boys - if they _are_ boys - got onto this campus and just decided to try to splatter one another all over my Quidditch Pitch!"

And with that, Harry put his arm around James' shoulders and led the visibly shaken boy out.

"Scorpy?" Albus asked.

"Odd? Is that his name?" Hermione asked, moving closer to his bed, but with her wand drawn as well.

"Scorpius Malfoy?" Albus nodded, wondering if his Aunt were going to go off on him as his father just had.

"You two should have done more research," Hermione commented, as Jane the Mediwitch then began with the physical part of the examination. Albus found himself levitated over to an exam table, and breathed a sigh of relief to find that he'd at least been given pyjamas.

_We've landed somewhere where I don't exist anymore, where THIS Albus _died_ when he was younger_, Albus fretted, realizing something else as well - he'd arrived in this version of Hogwarts without his clothes, without his glasses, and without his wand. _This is bad_, he thought, _Because that means there's no _duplicate-me_ to trade places with!_ He then realized that Hermione was talking to Jane.

"Do a cheek swab, and we'll verify the DNA before they change back," She suggested. "Cross reference it with known Pureblood families."

"No PolyJuice residuals," Jane commented, "Not that they could have gotten hold of a boomslang anyway, since Harry had the Scamanders exterminate them in the wild. No signs of baby Mandrake or abnormal amazonite traces either."

About then, Scorpius began waking up. "Aspie, where are we?" He groaned. "I feel like I just fell off the Astronomy Tower!"

"Told you," Jane snorted, turning her attention to him.

"And you would be?" Hermione asked.

"Sc-Scorpius...Scorpius Malfoy?" Scorpius replied, looking at her oddly as he struggled to assimilate the clashing memories that were now spinning into his mind. He looked desperately at Albus.

_He's pulled me along with him, _Scorpius thought,_ into another Timeline! And I remember all of it, like the Baron said! Aspie's Aunt...Rose's mum ... MY mum, but NO_! And then - _**Orion**_! Scorpius sniffled. _Orion's gone..._

"The House of Malfoy fell with the death of Draco Malfoy, just after the Final Battle," Hermione informed him.

Scorpius just lay there in shock, his face deathly pale.

_Daddy's dead?!_

_Then how do I find Uncle...Draco Malfoy in _this_ Universe? _Albus fretted.

"There _are_ no more Malfoys," Hermione added without emotion.

"Fortunately," another voice spoke up from the door. "Although the poor kid does look like him."

The boys looked over to see two men at the door. One of them was quite tall and black with an Afro. The other was shorter, with sandy hair cut in a crew fashion. They were dressed in Gryffindor trimmed robes as well.

"Seamus, Dean!" Hermione greeted them. "Did Harry tell you?"

"Tol' us there wuz some fool up 'eer imperzonatin' wee Albie?" Seamus replied.

"He'd like you to take over, Ron," Dean said, "James is pretty bad off, and he had to sedate him again. To say nothing of the fact that he can't turn _the ring_ and contact Albie. It's drivin' him mad; Albie always came before?"

_He's using the Hallows_! Albus realized, having heard those bedtime stories since he was little. _Dad's gone mad with the power! And he can't call my Ghost, because I AM the Ghost!_

"Makes no sense," Ron snorted, giving Hermione a serious look. Then he glanced back at the boys. "It's been over an hour since we found 'em on the Pitch, so we're sayin' it's not PolyJuice?"

"No chance," Jane replied. "These really _are_ two little boys, and other than the usual childhood injuries, and what they got hit with recently, since healed, they're perfectly healthy. Merlin's beard!" She then exclaimed, pointing at the illusory monitors over the exam table.

"What is that?" Hermione gasped.

"A magical signature unlike anything we've ever seen before," Jane offered.

"Meaning?" Ron asked.

"No idea," Jane breathed. "It's like they're both pulling on some kind of new and unheard-of Magic! It's completely inverse!"

"With'ow' _wands_?" Seamus asked, surprised.

"Alert Harry," Hermione told Ron, and off he went with a dark look at the boys - Scorpius in particular.

"Feels like home already," Scorpius snorted.

"Gods, 'ee looks like ol' Malfoy, don' 'ee?" Seamus asked.

"An' the little'un looks jus' like Harry," Dean agreed.

"I don't care _who _he looks like," Jane retorted, finishing her examination of Albus and putting him back in bed. "This one's a child, and a frightened one at that. Nothing more. And I'll wager that the blond," she gestured at Scorpius, "Is too!"

"We have names," Scorpius mumbled.

"Which make _no_ sense!" Hermione reminded them. "My nephew died, as Harry told you, and the Malfoy line is extinct."

Scorpius sniffled again, biting his lower lip, and giving Albus a look that more than said that he was struggling with the severity of the woman that a recent part of him remembered as his mother.

"Wh...whut happened to me?" Albus asked in a very small voice. "Albus, I mean, Ma'am?"

"He fell off his father's Firebolt when his brother talked him into a joyride," Hermione humored them. "Poppy did everything she could at St. Mungo's, but the head trauma was just too much. James had a nervous breakdown, and wasn't even able to start school until he was twelve. You can't begin to imagine what finding a copy of his little brother on the Pitch _did_ to him! Ronald said he's been nearly hysterical ever since!"

_James found us_? Albus wondered.

"You said that Mr. Potter closed Slytherin House?" Scorpius asked, as it was his turn to be poked and prodded.

"Don' tell 'em nuthin' else, 'Mione," Seamus offered. "They could be part o' tha Pureblood Underground!"

_What is THAT_?! Albus wondered.

"Harry and Shacklebolt did away with Slytherin, a few years after he joined the Aurors," Hermione informed them, "If you must know? It had become the smallest House here, once most of the old families fled the country, and was dying out anyhow."

The boys nodded, anxious to hear how this Timeline had turned out.

"He did a bit of housecleaning at the Ministry too," She offered.

"Bloodbath was more like it," Dean snorted. "It was like ol' Moody was reincarnated!"

Albus blinked. "So he beat the Dark Lord?"

"Beat 'im?" Seamus laughed, "_Beat 'im_? With two 'o tha three Deathly Hallows? Tha' was all 'ee needed! When 'ee disappeared under tha Cloak, then let tha' Stone loose an' called up an army o' tha Dead, all _Hell_ come after the Death Eaters! Damn nigh burnt ow' 'is magic, 'ee did, but when Harry set tha Marauders loose..."

"And once he got the Elder Wand, there was no stopping him," Dean cut in. "Harry wanted revenge, an' he _got_ it!"

"He wanted our world kept safe," Hermione defended Harry.

"Oh, is that why he nailed half the Ministry staff with Veritaserum and had them killed?" Dean smiled.

_Dad_? Albus wondered, _Dad went mad after the Battle_?

"Harry never killed anyone," Hermione disagreed, "It's just...unfortunate...that so many of the Ministry Staff he flushed out didn't survive Azkaban."

"Wh-what happened to my da- … I mean, Draco Malfoy?" Scorpius had to ask.

"Harry gave him back his wand, and not long after, Malfoy turned it on himself. He committed suicide," Hermione informed them.

"Wh-what about S-Slytherin, you said?" Albus gasped, as Scorpius just lay there, stunned by the news.

"Harry dissolved the House after a few years with the Ministry," Hermione went on, "None of the Slytherins helped defend the Castle in battle but for Horace Slughorn, and since none of the Slytherin students even came back, and enrollment continued to fall, the Hat was ordered not to Sort anyone there ever again."

"B-but what if a kid really _is_ a Slytherin?" Albus asked, dreading the answer.

Seamus and Dean laughed, and Albus saw his Uncle Neville shudder. Neville hadn't said a word up until then. He'd just sat there quietly with Teddy.

"They're immediately sent by Portkey to the Karkarov Reform Center in Siberia for a year," Neville said very quietly, his face pale. "If they...I mean, _when_ they come back, they...they Sort into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; quiet, very well-behaved students."

Albus caught the dark look that Hermione flashed at Neville, but said nothing at all.

"Ma'am?" A soft voice then asked, as the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw appeared at the door. Jane nodded to her. "Davies of my House is requesting permission to bring the little Gamble boy back in? Pritchard says he's doing it again?"

Albus and Scorpius looked sharply at her, and she nodded ever so slightly. Moments after the Grey Lady vanished again, a boy that they didn't know came in with a smaller boy that they _did _know - Mason Gamble.

And this Gamble was nothing like they remembered him.

Of all their roommates in what Albus considered his Reality, Gamble had been the friendliest and most inquisitive. He'd been the one to scoot over and make room for them at the Sorting. He'd been neat and outgoing, although cautious, but now his whole demeanor had changed.

The lean and hungry-looking boy they now saw was disheveled, his robes worn, and his face sunken with distant eyes that looked far too old for a First Year. He kept very close to Davies, the Prefect of Ravenclaw House, and he was twitchy and whimpering.

"He wants to sleep _under_ his bed again," Davies informed them in a disgusted tone, "And he just cries when we try to give him his potion. Poor little fellow's got to get some rest, now, doesn't he? Baddock says he hasn't slept since he got here."

Albus stared at Gamble, feeling nauseous, and remembered something - an old newspaper photo - that his father had shown him of his own Godfather, Sirius Black.

_Poor kid looks like he's gone a round or two with a Dementor_, Albus wondered.

"Now what's wrong, child?" Jane asked soothingly, but as she approached, Gamble's vacant eyes went wide and he started to scream.

"Hold him," Jane then ordered Dean and Seamus, as Gamble struggled to break free, head jerking and eyes darting about as if seeking an escape route.

Jane then pressed the tip of her wand to the boy's brow, right between the eyes.

"NO! I'LL BE GOOD! I PROMISE! DON'T SEND ME TO **HIM**! I'LL TAKE THE POTION! PLEASE...**NO**!" He wailed, as Jane then sent what looked like a small bolt of electricity straight into his head at point blank range.

"Ex-excuse me," Neville offered in a very small voice, as Gamble collapsed, and was put in a bed and restrained. Neville headed for the restroom.

"Aw, c'mon, Longbottom!" Seamus called after him, "Iz jus' a wee shock ter _calm_ him?"

"You want me to have a go at _them_ now?" Teddy then spoke up, and Albus flinched as he saw Teddy's hair turn red - the warning sign that he was about to blow. His eyes were sparkling amber, and Albus noted the points on his ears and eyeteeth.

"Go ahead and rule out Transfigurations, but try not to hurt them," Jane agreed reluctantly, as Teddy nodded.

Albus shivered as his Godbrother approached him, and when Teddy grabbed him by the face, he could feel some kind of painful power flowing through him as every nerve in his body was set on fire.

Albus screamed.

"No transfiguration Charms," Teddy then said, releasing Albus and moving on to Scorpius, who screamed as well.

When Teddy was done, both of the boys lay panting and quietly crying in their beds. Albus managed a look at Gamble, and turned away to see Neville coming back. He went and sat by Gamble's bed.

"Blame it on my bad upbringing," Teddy commented, as he nodded and left the room. "If you'll excuse me, I'll be watching Gryffindor House?"

"Shouldn't...shouldn't they at least have something to eat?" Neville offered nervously. "Now that we know they're really just kids?"

Despite the pain that Teddy Lupin had inflicted upon them, Albus' stomach was growling. There was no way to tell how long it had been since breakfast in their last Timeline.

"What would you like?" Jane asked. "The House Elves can make you up almost anything, but they charge for it."

"M-money?" Scorpius asked, "Now where would I have a Galleon? Up my ar-"

"I'll cover it," Hermione interrupted him. "What do you want?"

"Shepherd's pie and _cold_ milk?" Albus asked timidly, his mind racing as to how they were going to get out of this one. He could just have easily have bitten his tongue and made it bleed, forcing him into another Reality, but that would have meant abandoning Scorpius, since he could not touch him. _No, no I _won't_ do that!_

"How do you know _that_?" Neville gasped. "That was Albie's favorite food!"

"Uhhh ohhh," Scorpius groaned.

"I bet a lot of kids like it," Albus looked away.

"DOBBY!" Hermione called out, and a House Elf that Albus didn't know appeared with a soft CRACK!

"Dobby the House Elf, Ma'am," Dobby bowed. Then he saw Albus and squeaked in alarm. "Oh, this is bad! Bad things!" He gasped, "Things is all being out of shape! Dobby knows, Dobby has seen Magic in his day, yes he has!" He then leaned in for a look at Scorpius. "Mistress Weasley should know who _this_ boy is!" Dobby rambled, pointing from Scorpius to Albus to the odd Magical readout above him.

"Dobby, they want Shepherd's pie and _cold_ milk, please," she asked, ignoring his little fit. "And no, they're _not_ who you think they are. It's not possible."

Dobby simply grunted as he vanished, returning moments later with food for the boys. As he placed the trays on their laps, he gave Albus a wink and went to sit by Neville. No one saw him reach over to hold Gamble's hand.

"When they're done eating," Ron snorted, as he came back in, "Harry wants to interrogate them - in his office." He gave them a grin that made the boys shiver. "Teddy's got Gryffindor verified, and Hannah's got Hufflepuff. Davies said he had his Ravenclaws, too?"

"Fine when I left, sir," Davies nodded. "Professor Descartes should be there now."

_Office...good_, Albus thought, as Hermione released their hands and he bolted his meal, _Because that's where the Hat should be!_

Once they finished eating, the boys were led - under heavy guard and still in pyjamas - up to the Headmaster's office. Had they ever seen it before, they would have recognized that not very much had changed since Harry had taken over for Minerva McGonagall, and later, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Albus glanced around at the whirring little silver machines, the vast bookcases, and finally spotted the Hat perched on a high shelf. It twisted around and seemed to follow his movements, as did the Portraits.

"Have a seat," Harry said flatly, nodding at his three former schoolmates. "Tell Neville to make sure the Prefects and Ghosts maintain the lockdown until I've sorted this out, Ron?"

Ron nodded curtly and left, leaving Seamus and Dean and a couple of other men that Albus didn't know to guard them.

"Normally, I'd not treat children so badly," Harry began, "But your appearances are disturbing. I don't know how you've done it, boys, but I am _not_ amused."

"Like Gamble, sir?" Scorpius spoke up, hugging his bare feet and lower legs up himself. "Bet he'll feel better in the morning, huh?"

"Shut it," Harry snapped at him. "You're both obviously Human, Magical, and approximately eleven years old. By _law_, you're supposed to either be enrolled here at Hogwarts - or incarcerated at the camp in Siberia. There's only one way to tell which." He then flicked the Elder Wand, summoning the Hat. "Considering the Veritaserum in your milk, and the Hat, I'd say we're about to find out!"

He then stood up and placed the Hat on Scorpius' head.

Then Harry Potter heard a name that he never thought he'd hear again:

"Draco Malfoy?" The Hat gasped, "How is this possible?"

"WHAT?!" Harry exclaimed.

"Scorpius," Scorpius corrected it.

"Be that as it may, child," the Hat went on, "I have seen bravery to the point of reckless stupidity in my day. I have seen dedication that has defied even Death, and intelligence that frightened me. You, however, are _Un_sortable. You do _not_ belong here."

Harry's hand trembled as he moved the Hat to Albus.

"Gahhhh! _Another_ Weasley!" It gasped, and Harry relaxed a bit. "And another Potter-Weasley _hybrid_!" It then added in astonishment. "Albus Severus Potter! I never thought to meet you! But with a hint of Draco Malfoy as well?" It then twisted around to look at Harry with its 'face'. "I do not understand this, Headmaster. This is not possible. Only I can see into their minds and hearts, and what I see above all else is the Soul of Draco Malfoy. Hard to forget that one," it added.

"So what do you think?" Harry asked it. "This child is Confunded to the point that he _believes_ he is my son?"

"Yes. And don't get your knickers in a twist, Potter, but I'd have to say Slytherin for both of them," the Hat replied, "If they even _belonged_ here. Their Magic is unreadable to me."

"Thank you," Harry said flatly, as he placed the Hat on his desk.

"All right, talk. Who are you?" He then ordered the boys.

But despite the Veritaserum, Albus kept quiet. "It's unspeakable," Albus finally said, and he knew that that was the truth. He knew that he could sit there and lie to this dark mirror of his father, and that that would be truth as well. He glanced at Scorpius. _I'd lie for you, and that's the truth!_

"Now you listen to me, you little git," Harry pointed the Elder Wand at him again, "I don't know how you Confunded the Hat, or how you can beat Veritaserum, but I can tell you one thing..."

And then Albus saw it - a scattering of golden dust as he stared at the Hat, which had just fallen over on the desk, exposing its dark interior.

But something within sparkled...

As they listened to Harry's raving speech about conspiracy, sedition, and constant vigilance - and how his policies had made their world a safe place to live in - Albus watched as that _something_ was sparkling within the dust. He elbowed Scorpius, hoping that the guards couldn't see him.

Very slowly, he reached for the Hat.

Scorpius did the same.

Two small hands reached into the Hat, and just as Albus' hand closed on something small and hard, Scorpius gasped. Harry looked up, whipped the Elder Wand around, and both boys pulled back.

"NO!" Scorpius yelled, jumping in front of Albus as the blast of blood red light hit him at point blank range.

A high power Stunner at that range ... _can kill_ ... Albus knew.

"STING!" Albus cried out, but the Spell was deflected by a green shield that was emanating from the silver ring now on Scorpius' finger.

"MEN!" Harry yelled, but the boys were already moving.

Spells flew across the room, blasting tiny machines off the tables and sending portraits scampering out of their frames. The boys hit the floor rolling, and as Seamus dived at Scorpius, the boy slid between his legs and reached up to punch him right in the...

"URGH!" Seamus groaned, toppling over and taking Dean down with him as the boys ran for the door. The other guards tried to stop them, but they could not penetrate the ring's shielding.

But as the boys reached the door, it slammed shut.

"F*©&!" Scorpius yelled, as Albus realized what he held in his hand.

It was a key.

And it fit the lock.

Albus slammed the door behind them, but as they barreled down the stairs, Harry blasted it off the hinges. All throughout the castle, alarms were sounding.

"Now I remember why Slytherins annoy me so bad!" Harry yelled, as the boys jumped the banister and slid down the moving staircase.

"CHANGE!" Albus yelled at it, and the staircase did, taking them in an opposite direction and making Harry have to take a longer detour.

"Where we goin'?" Scorpius gasped, as they narrowly avoided a quickly retracting end post and certain emasculation!

"Common Room!" Albus replied, "We got a key, and you got a green ring! We can't take 'em with us, so we gotta do it here!"

"Do what?" Scorpius asked, as they hit the floor running and jumped another banister with Harry still taking the long way down.

"We'll know when we get there!" Albus panted, as they sprinted off to the side and down into the dungeons. "Maybe we can contact your dad?"

"Malfoys are an _extinct_ species here, remember?!"

"Oh, right! Sorry 'bout that!"

"No one's been down here for a while," Scorpius pointed out, as they made their way down into the dark and deserted corridor that was usually lit with natural and green-tinged torches. It was so dark, with only the glowing ring for light, that they couldn't even see the dusty floor.

"Over here!" Albus said, feeling the familiar tug at his sleeve.

"Yeah, but what was the bloody password like fifteen-twenty years ago?" Scorpius wondered.

Albus thought hard, staring at the key in his hand.

But there was no keyhole.

"Open the bloody door!" He yelled at the wall, pounding on the blank stone with his fists.

Nothing.

"In the name of Salazar Slytherin," he swore, not knowing _why_, as it suddenly came to him, "_Please_ open the door!"

But the request came out not in English - but in Parseltongue.

The door slid open.

The boys ran in, slamming it behind them.

"You're late," the Bloody Baron commented, as the boys looked over to see him sitting on the loveseat alone. "Change password," he then called out, and his reply was a sibilant hissing from seemingly nowhere.

"I wanna go home!" Scorpius whined, and the door shuddered.

"Good enough," the Baron agreed.

Outside in the long-unused corridor, Harry Potter held his lit wand aloft and looked all around.

"Hominus Revello!" He called out, but there was no one there. "No way they got in there," he reasoned. "No one can penetrate those wards I put there!" Then Harry turned to go back up. "He looked like Albie," he sniffed, touching the ring that so resembled the one that Marvolo Gaunt had once been so proud of. "Where are you, son?"

And then he drew himself up again. "But that won't save him when I catch him!"

"Your dad's a bloody nutter!" Scorpius gasped at Albus, as the boys panted for breath.

"Tha's _not_ my dad," Albus shook his head. "Merlin! What the _hell_ went wrong in this Timeline?"

"Harry went wrong," the voice of Neville Longbottom then spoke up, and both boys jumped. "Relax," Neville held up his hands. "I'm assuming you came here so that you could leave this place the same way you arrived?"

"I hope," Albus sighed.

"Why aren't you attacking us, like everyone else?" Scorpius asked warily, holding out his fist in defense, where the stone in his ring still glowed green.

"Because only a _true_ Slytherin could have opened that door," Neville replied.

"Then how'd _you _get in here?" Albus wondered.

Neville looked away. "Years ago, when Harry closed this House off, we started using it for storage," Neville explained, gesturing around at the collection of odds and ends that had accumulated in the unused room over time. "I figured I had to face my last great fear - this place. Of all the rooms in this Castle, I'd never been in here. So I offered to bring stuff down here. Only two of us knew the password. I figured if I could get past _him_," Neville gestured at Salazar Slytherin's portrait. "And Dobby helped."

"Master Albie?" Dobby then spoke from the shadows, and something came back to Albus.

"You knew me?"

Dobby nodded. "Dobby knew the Spirit of his Master, who loved him. Dobby is not knowing how Master Albie comes back now, not summoned by Master Harry Potter's ugly ring, but Dobby is glad he did!" He then began to beat his head on the wall, but Neville stopped him.

"I...I know you!" Albus breathed, as his memory painfully shifted, and Dobby nodded. A new set of memories from the departed resident Albus was flooding in on him, and it took him a moment to assimilate it.

_I... _**_he_**_ died...James...oh, Merlin_! Albus thought.

"Dobby cannot speak of that which is Unspeakable," the Elf replied, "Or he has to punish himself, lest he end up like Kreacher!" Dobby shuddered. "But even if Master finds old Master Draco - somewhere else - he is still in danger!"

"Great," Scorpius snorted, "But how does he know?"

"House Elf magic is different," Neville put in.

"So you got over it?" Scorpius then asked Neville.

"I thought I'd finally be over it...all. But..." Neville fumbled, "then Harry went...went..."

"Mad?" Scorpius offered helpfully.

"Yeah," Neville nodded. "I just want to know one thing, Albie," he asked, and Albus gasped.

"Y-you believe us?"

"I do," Neville replied sadly. "You see, when you ordered Shepherd's pie and 'cold' milk, I remembered something. Hannah and I used to baby-sit you and James, you know. You got sick once because the milk was bad. You always had to have milk with it, and from there on out, you always said 'cold milk, Uncle!'" Neville then laughed. "No one but my little Albie," he choked, wiping at his face, "could have known that." He then held out his arms, and Albus went to him.

Neville held him for a bit, as Scorpius looked on. "Hermione was talking about Trans-Dimensional Theory once," Neville managed, "But I...I never believed it."

"Excellent, Professor," the Baron agreed.

"Sir," Scorpius finally asked, relaxing just a bit, "What did the Gamble boy do?"

Neville slumped and turned away. Dobby whimpered. "He was hiding food in his room again," Neville sighed, "And he's afraid of the dark. Afraid of noises. Afraid of ... Harry."

"Owwwhhh," the boys sighed hard.

Neville sniffed again, laying his wand aside as he moved to stand in front of a large, oval mirror. He gazed into it. "The happiest man in the world would see only himself, just as he is, in this mirror," Neville mused, sounding lost.

"Uncle?"

"No, don't explain it," Neville waved him off. "I don't want to know where you came from, or how you go here. Just go, before Harry finds you!"

"But how do we _do_ that?" Scorpius wondered, "How can we put it all right if we just keep jumping into other Realities?"

Dobby made a small sound and went to stand by Neville, running his long fingers along the mirror's frame. "Mistress Hermione Weasley suspects?" Dobby offered.

Neville winced, but turned away from the mirror to stare at Albus. "How anyone could look at a child," he shook his head sadly, "And then send them away to ... when they've just come here with a head full of hopes and dreams ... and I can't even ..." he faltered. "_It's just so bloody aggravating!_"

"'Don't aggravate Salazar'," Scorpius whispered. "Remember Dad's letter, Aspie?"

The boys turned to the portrait again, where those same piercing green eyes seemed to look right through Albus. Albus stared back into them, his own green eyes boring right back at them.

"Shhhr Seleeethyyyn, shahhh?" He asked in Parseltongue, without even realizing it.

"Oh my!" Neville breathed, as the Portrait of Salazar Slytherin moved for the first time that either boy could remember. "That picture's on the wall with a Permanent Sticky Charm! Even Dobby couldn't break it!"

"And who wouldst thou be?" Salazar Slytherin asked.

"Albus Severus Potter, sir," Albus replied, "And Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy."

"Long hath my House stood empty," Slytherin sighed, "Be this the work of Godric Gryffindor, at long last? After all these centuries?" He asked in English.

"Sort of," Scorpius replied.

"Not since little Tommy Riddle have I conversed with a Parselmouth," Slytherin mused. "Often have I thought that the gift had died out. Who art thou, really, boy?"

Albus' head spun as he tried to recall all the stories his father had told him about the War, the Hallows, who had done what, and who was related to whom in the complex genealogy of the Wizarding World.

Then it came to him as something that chilled his blood clicked into place for the first time.

"Sir, we need your help?" Albus asked, slipping back into English.

"And _why_ would I give it?" Slytherin asked, "When my House hath fallen to ruin? With no Slytherins, my line is ended. I will give no help to Mudbloods or Blood Traitors!"

Albus' mind spun with Wizarding Family Tree information, trying to recall who was related to whom. Then it came to him. "Because I'm the last Peverell, descendant of Ignotus," Albus hissed at him, holding up the key and meeting his emerald gaze with equal hardness.

"Grandssssson," Slytherin then hissed in satisfied reply, nodding, as the portrait hinged outwards to reveal a wooden door with a single keyhole.

"Oh my!" Neville breathed.

Albus inserted the key and turned it.

Something clicked, and the little door opened.

"There's nothing in here," Albus sighed, peering in and looking by the light of the Baron's glow.

"Taketh two," Salazar offered.

"Let me look," Scorpius offered, as he reached in.

The stone in his ring then burst into intense green light, and Scorpius felt something.

"Got it!" He cried triumphantly, as he withdrew his hand and pulled out a small emerald-encrusted hourglass on a dainty gold chain.

"A Time-Turner!" They all gasped.

"My greatest invention," Slytherin offered, as the portrait swung back shut. "Of course, Rowena _did_ help," he confessed, smiling at the boys. "Ahhh, Rowena," he sighed.

"Yes," The Baron agreed.

"I feared that someday, all that we had built might be lost to the Shadow of Time," Slytherin said, "So I hid this here, cursing the door to my safe, so that only my last true descendent could ever open it. All they ever had to do was ask for my help."

"That's why V-V-Volde-HIM! Never found it!" Neville gasped. "He would _never _have asked for help."

"Bring back my House, noble Grandson," Salazar Slytherin then ordered them. "Undo the travesty that hath befallen us all! For every outcome, there is always one - and only ONE - key event that triggered it. Go there, my sons. Reshape Time Itself to thy liking!"

"No one has that kind of power!" Neville gasped.

"I _did_," Slytherin replied haughtily. "I _still _do!"

"Aspie, there's one little problem," Scorpius pointed out. "If we jump again, the Time-Turner _won't_ go with us? We showed up naked, remember? Not even your specs came?"

"Bugger!" Albus groaned, looking all around the room. "And we _have_ to find your dad! That's what they kept telling us! We can't fix this without him!"

Then Albus saw Slytherin's portrait, but in reverse, as the key grew hot in his hand and Scorpius' ring began to glow again. "In the mirror," he gasped, moving towards it as it drew him in, the frame beginning to glow green as well. "What does this mirror do?"

"It shows the deepest, wildest desires of a man's heart," Neville told them. "Many a night, I've sat here, lost in it," he sighed. "And do you know what I see?"

The boys weren't sure they wanted to know.

"I see the children," Neville's voice broke, "Because that's all we were - CHILDREN! I see Fred and Colin, and all the others who died that night. Children who lost their childhood to the war, before it even began. And I see the happy children - like poor little Gamble - that come here and...and never make it past that damnable Hat!" Neville sobbed, as Dobby moved to comfort him. "I should have let it burn," he choked.

And as Albus and Scorpius moved towards the Mirror of Erised, they saw themselves dressed in new Slytherin uniforms - and handing the Time-Turner to...

"Daddy!" Scorpius whispered.

"Yes," the Baron nodded. "Only an object that transcends that which is mundane could show these things. Perhaps, in some other places, some other times, these visions are in fact - real? Somewhere, or some-when, else?"

"Harry told me a story once, about how Albus Dumbledore used this mirror," Neville mused, as he approached the boys and laid his hands on their shoulders. Then he bent down and softly kissed Albus' cheek, taking the boy's hand and firmly planting it in Scorpius'. "Never let go, Albie. And thank you for this one, last chance," he said, as he then shoved the boys forward at the glass.

Dobby snapped his fingers.

"UNCLE!" Albus screamed, as he held tight to Scorpius' hand and they fell into darkness.

The mirror cracked, then the glass turned to dust. On the far wall, Slytherin's portrait burst into green flames as the Castle began to shiver. Dust and small stones rained down upon them.

"Goodbye, boys," Neville sighed again, as he and Dobby waited for the bliss of something - although they knew not what - that would surely take them away from the horror of their own Universe that had become nothing more than a Dark Mirror of what it should have been.


	11. Chapter 11 Bless the Child

**XI**

**Bless the Child**

**The Conclusion**

**"...gone back in time to bless the child..." - Nightwish**

_**(Same time, different universe as Chapter X)**_

"It's happened again, Harry," Professor McGonagall said, Floo-chatting with Harry.

"What variety of Albus have we got now?" Harry asked in reply.

"Well, now he thinks he's a Slytherin - again. At least he's got that right! He also thinks, however, that Scorpius Malfoy is his cousin by a second marriage, and that Draco Malfoy is married to Hermione Weasley, thus making her Scorpius' stepmother! Then there was something about Scorpius' little brother, Orion? Oh, and of course, Rose Weasley is now Scorpius' stepsister! Oh, and there's more," she went on describing Albus' latest tale.

"Have you informed Draco?" Harry asked anxiously.

"I have _not_," McGonagall replied primly, "But I must commend you two for healing old wounds and working together on this. I can scarcely believe it myself! Frankly, I thought your boy had simply gone mad!"

"You didn't get it from me, because technically, it _isn't _happening," Harry reminded her. "Keep telling people that Albus is still suffering from that head injury. Ginny believes it, and so do his Grandparents. I don't think we need to tell Ron and Hermione that other bit, though?"

"I wouldn't think so," McGonagall agreed, "The notion of being married to Draco Malfoy might be more than either of them could handle!" She had to laugh.

"Well, let's just hope the Unspeakables don't stick their mysterious noses into this, if they get wind of it," Harry fretted. "I _still _don't know what those people get up to down there in the cellar of the Ministry!"

"No one does, that's why we call them that," McGonagall reminded him. "In the meantime, though, this particular Albus wants to try out for Quidditch. Shall we allow it?"

"Since I'm technically not his father, I can't really say, but yes, go ahead. We don't want to appear suspicious, if he's asking."

"He wants to be a Chaser," McGonagall said, "Says he's better at it than his brother James?"

"Then he's got two things right so far," Harry laughed. "I'll see if Draco has come up with anything new. If you'll excuse me?"

McGonagall nodded and vanished.

*******

In the cellar at the Ministry, the seated man laughed. "Oh, bless him! He has _no _clue we're already poking our noses into it!"

"Switch back," the other man said, "I want to watch Albus-One again. I just hope he doesn't jump into a Timeline where he doesn't exist."

"What then?"

"No clue," Colin sighed. "I've only been at this for nineteen years, you know. I still don't know how it all _works_!" His voice squeaked.

"Have you even shaved yet?"

"Oh, bugger off, Fred!" Colin snorted, "If I'd known they were going to do this to me, I'd have snapped my wand in First Year and grown up to be a milkman!"

*******

"Draco, are you home?" Harry called, tossing in a fresh handful of Floo powder.

"Where else would I be, you infinite prat?" Draco answered. "I'm trying to use that connection thing you talked about, and you're breaking my concentration."

"Any leads?" Harry asked, "Because Albus just jumped again. You won't believe what we've got this time!" Harry then repeated the story to Draco, who seemed to choke on something.

"ME, married to HER?" Draco had to laugh. "Where's _Ron_ in that other Timeline?"

"Assassinated," Harry said darkly. "It seems that you stepped in to help Hermione in her time of need."

"I had another son," Draco mused, sounding wistful. "My, my...what a good person I _really _am, no?" Then he thought about it. "Merlin, I hope he has _my_ hair!"

"Don't push it, Draco," Harry sighed.

"That explains the bursting headache," Draco added. "Must have been when the boy jumped. I can tell you this, though - he's very close, Harry. Very, very close to finding his way back. It seems that he's not gone too far."

"I think it must be the injuries, what push him out into a new Timeline," Harry said, "He's not been badly hurt or endangered enough to go too far off. But the bad news is, they're going out for Quidditch try-outs this afternoon."

"WHAT?!" Draco gasped, and this time he did choke, as something broke. "Drop your Wards!"

Harry did that, and Draco burst out of the Floo. His white shirt was deeply stained in purple, and he looked quite upset.

"Lead crystal goblet, ancient wine, cost me thousands of Galleons," Draco grumbled, firing a cleaning Charm into his shirt. "That was a 2002 Justice Syrah, I'll have you know! Imported from the United States!"

"Can we talk about MY SON instead?!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes, no time to waste, Harry," Draco replied, heading for the door and grabbing a cloak off the rack. "We're about the same size," he observed, quickly changing the Gryffindor emblem into a green Slytherin crest. "Grab a cloak, and let's go!"

"Where are we going?" Harry wondered, "Just help yourself to a cloak, why don't you?"

"I thought I just did?" Draco commented airily. "I have a new idea, and we need to go to Hogwarts to test it. I'm sensing that I already like this new and improved Albus. Can we keep him?"

"NO!" Harry yelled, as they started down the hallway, where they received many a confused stare from other employees.

"_This_ will certainly give them all something to gossip about," Draco observed, as he threw his arm about Harry's shoulders. "Now, if you were to invest _that_ amount in the Apothecary," Draco said loudly, "The returns would be just smashing_, and_..." he went on, seeming to enjoy the stares.

"Do the words 'Avada Kedavra' mean anything to you, Draco?" Harry muttered. Draco smirked at him.

They exited through the visitors' entrance. When the phone booth opened, they stepped behind a rubbish bin and Apparated.

"I know the way, and don't hug me again," Harry snorted.

"You have to put on a good show," Draco replied.

"I know where he is," Draco then heard his own voice saying in the darkness, and Harry flinched.

"OUCH!" Harry yelped, as they materialized at the front gates of Hogwarts. "I think you made me Splinch a toenail!"

"Be glad it wasn't your head," Draco shook his, offering a simple Healing Spell. "Quidditch indeed! Do you know how far away Albus will be pushed if he gets hit with a Bludger?"

"No?"

"Good, because neither do I!" Draco admitted. "But I think the more serious the injury or danger, the further he'll go. That Hufflepuff-Albus was just about more than I could believe, and we don't want him blown completely out of the realms of possibility! We need to put a stop to this."

Harry tapped the "H" emblem on the gate with his wand, and after a few moments, Professor Miles Urquhart came down the way to admit them.

"And to what do we owe this _unexpected_ pleasure, gentlemen?" He asked, his eyebrows going up.

"Just came to watch Quidditch try-outs, sign the forms, if that's all right?" Harry asked.

"Far be it from me to say _no _to the Head Auror," Urquhart nodded. "Albus seems much better now, Potter, if that's why you've come? Ahhh, Mr. Malfoy?" He then greeted Draco icily. "Nothing _better_ to do?"

"No, I've not decided which business to buy out next," Draco sneered at him.

"Very _few _parents come to practices," Urquhart commented, "Come along then, I need to get my players moving. I was just on the way."

"Harry, I need to touch him," Draco finally revealed his plan, whispering it behind a Muffliato Charm. "I think if I can connect to that bit of me that's attached to him, I might be able to lock onto our real Albus."

"How many bits of you are floating around out there?" Harry asked in wonder, "Are you even sure?"

"Trust me," Draco sighed, as they made their way to the locker rooms, "When your Soul shatters, you have no idea what it's like. I think the Muggles call it 'shitz-suh-frenium' or something? I keep getting bits and snatches, memories of things I know aren't possible. The best way I can describe it is like being at the beach, when a wave washes over you - only this time, you're the sand."

Harry shivered, wondering if Voldemort had felt anything like that when he'd split his Soul.

"Dad! Uncle!" They then heard Albus yell, as he and Scorpius came charging down the path to nearly tackle them in greeting.

Urquhart gave them all that look again as Albus first hugged his father, then his "Uncle".

"Albie," Draco smiled at him, placing his hands on the boy's cheeks, humoring him.

For just an instant, Albus seemed to freeze. Then he blinked. "What wuz _that_?" The boy exclaimed. "Everybody here's all weird, Uncle! Scorpy gets all stupid when Rosie talks to him, and he don't know his own Mum!"

"_Do not_!" Scorpius retorted, his face pink.

"Albus, I don't think this is such a good idea," Harry offered, "What with your head and all?" Albus, however, protested mightily until Harry gave up.

Draco smiled at him. "We'll talk about it all later, shall we? Now go and make us proud!"

"Yes, much later," Urquhart agreed, as he shooed the boys into the locker room. _'Uncle Draco'_? He wondered._ Why would Potter allow that? Unless that rumor that they remained friendly over the years is true?_

"I have him," Draco whispered. "He's in Slytherin again, and fitting in quite well. I can feel him - feel _me_. He's...we're...very close now. I feel like I could reach out and grab him."

"Keep concentrating," Harry suggested, as they went to stand in the lee of the announcer's box. "While I step back and hide from relatives."

"First up, Slytherin Seekers," Higgins called out, as the game began. "Double elimination!"

"We should be going for the Sorting Hat," Albus muttered, not knowing why, as they set off after the Snitch. "And I'm more of a Chaser."

"What'r you on about?" Scorpius asked.

"We can do that after we're done, I guess..._watch out_!" Albus yelped, as a Bludger just missed Scorpius.

"You get the feeling we've done this before?" Scorpius asked, as he spotted the Snitch and they zoomed off after it.

"I got it!" Albus was shouting.

"Back off, loser!" Scorpius laughed.

In the lee of the stands, Draco and Harry watched. Once the tryouts game was underway, Urquhart joined them.

"Are they playing with each other, or trying to really catch it?" Harry wondered.

"They're playing," Draco replied, catching a glimpse of something white in the stands just above them. For just an instant, he saw a flash of sunlight on fluffy white hair and heard an excited little voice.

"Go, Scoh-pee-us!"

_Orion?_ Draco wondered, as a scattering of dust fell from the rafters. Then the boy was gone.

"Watch out for Bludgers!" Urquhart suggested, his lips moving rapidly and his eyes glazed as he turned away from the two men.

"Mine!"  
"Mine!"

Both boys were closing in on the Snitch, oblivious to what was going on below them.

"Look out!" Draco shouted.

The Bludger just grazed Albus' cheek, the whistle of it deafening him in one ear...

Blood flew.

Two hands in different gloves closed on the Snitch.

"There!" Draco pointed, as he then gasped and went to his knees. "Did you...see...see his robe change color? Just a flash of it?"

"No?" Harry wondered, as he gave Draco a hand up.

"He's shifted," Draco gasped, clenching his eyes shut.

"What? What...a Snitch?" Albus gasped, nearly falling off his broomstick as he saw his green robe. "This isn't funny, Cormac!" He yelled downwards, as the Snitch buzzed by his nose.

A bell sounded.

"Slytherin scores!" Someone called out.

"Duck!" Someone else yelled, and Albus felt the Bludger slam into him. He coughed, spraying blood from a nosebleed, and was suddenly jerked sideways. He felt himself falling, but a hand with a glove like his own caught his wrist.

"Nohhh!" Draco groaned, going down again.

"Perhaps call Poppy?" Urquhart suggested flatly.

"I don't think we need to call St. Mungo's," Harry replied, kneeling beside Draco to steady him.

"Each...hit...shifts..." Draco gasped. "Merlin, Harry, it's hurting him!" Draco was almost in tears.

But as Harry gripped Draco's upper arms, a scattering of golden dust fell from the cloak. "They're being destroyed," Draco breathed, watching the dust now falling up instead of down. "Harry!" He almost cried, "I know what it is! I know what the bloody _dust_ is!"

"ALBUS!" Scorpius was shouting, as Albus looked up to see a Scorpius in black and gold gripping him by the wrist. "I told you this was a bad idea!"

Then the other Bludger grazed Scorpius' cheek as a hopeful Beater sent it his way.

Albus saw blood.

Scorpius was bleeding.

Reality was bleeding.

"It wasn't me!" Scorpius was then screaming at him, as Albus felt that same hand over his, and something struggling within his closed fist. Tiny golden wings were sticking out of his glove. "Aspie don't let go! Oh, Merlin, I'm so sorry! I wasn't me then!"

**"AAAIIIGGGHHH!"** Albus screamed, desperately trying to get out of Scorpius' grip. He didn't care if he fell - he just wanted away from Malfoy! _He's trying to steal my Snitch capture!_

Albus had just enough time to take in the green of his worst enemy's robes, the confused sneer on his face, and the green of his own robes before he sneezed again, blowing blood from his injured nose.

Still, their hands gripped one another.

"Don't...let...go..." Draco gasped.

"Get help! Get Iris!" Harry snapped at the Potions Master.

Urquhart didn't move.

The boys rolled, there was the **CRACK!** of a Beater's bat, and fiery pain exploded anew in both Albus' and Draco's heads.

Draco focused, with an effort, and saw Albus' robes shift from green to black and yellow, then to scarlet and back to green._ And only I can see it! _Draco realized.

Albus looked down, then back up at Scorpius. _He's trying to help me?!_

The boys fell.

_Bleeding, _Albus thought, neither willing to let go, but both for different reasons._ Hang on, Scorpy!_

"Sweet Merlin!" Scorpius swore, "It's not...you're the Gryff-...? Albie, hang on! I'm with you!"

Draco cried out in pain.

_He called me Albie_? Albus wondered._ Like he likes me again?_

"_**Arresto Momentum**_!" Harry aimed his wand and shouted as the turf rushed up to meet the boys.

Scorpius lost control of his broom, his hand still locked on Albus' forearm in a death grip.

"Aspie, I'm here! _This time, I'm going with you_!" Scorpius managed, just before their whole world went black as the boys hit the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Hmmmmm!" Urquhart observed from behind the announcer's stand. _Perhaps now there'll be no need to call_...

"DRACO!" Harry screamed, pulling him to his feet, as they both stared at the clearing dust.

There were no boys on the ground - only two riderless broomsticks hovering above two sets of abandoned green robes, gloves, and boots.

"Find him," Draco muttered, "Find _me_, wherever you've gone, boys!" Then his eyes went distant. "He knows...Draco knows. He knows how to undo this!"

"Where are they, Draco?!" Harry gasped. "Where did they go?"

"Scorpy...Scorpy had him," Draco panted, as he looked up sharply and his eyes cleared. "Merlin's beard! They're gone, Harry! THEY'RE GONE! I can't _sense_ him anymore! Albus took Scorpius _with_ him!"

On the Pitch, the dust formed up into a small tornado and whirled away into the breeze.

But as Harry watched, tiny little particles of it came scurrying through the air and grass and seemed to vanish upon contact with Draco.

Draco collapsed.

"Interesting," Urquhart observed. "That should be THAT!"

**-O-----------**

Deep within in the Department of Mysteries, the stone archway creaked and showed only the slowly waving tapestry again. From beyond it, voices called.

"Where'd they go?" The seated man wondered.

"They're dead to the world, Fred," Colin sighed. "It's too late to turn back now."

"Who's _this_ kid?" Fred then asked, as the image in the Arch shifted to show a haggard little boy in Ravenclaw robes.

**-O-----------**

When he managed to get one eye open, Draco Malfoy stared up at a light above him. His head was clearing, although he'd expected a pounding in it, and he wondered where he was.

"Father's gonna murder me for wrecking the Nimbus 2001," he fretted.

"Oh, snap _out_ of it, Mr. Malfoy!" Iris Pomfrey complained at him. "You're fine! You can go!"

It all came back to Draco at once.

"They're not here?" He gasped, sitting up quickly - which was a terrible idea. He groaned.

"Not a sign," Harry replied. "I've locked down the entire campus, everyone is searching, but no one's seen them since..."

"You _won't_ find them," Draco breathed, his eyes wide and looking frightened as he gazed around the room. "They've jumped. Scorpius wouldn't let go of Albus, and they went together."

"What do you see?" Harry asked him.

"Darkness," Draco shook his head. "Impenetrable darkness. Are there _no_ substitutes for the boys? No Doppelgangers?"

"None," Harry mumbled.

"They should have changed places," Draco reasoned, "Unless…"

"We've got the Ghosts and all the students covering the inside of the Castle," Harry replied, "But the Ghosts don't seem too hopeful?"

"Find the Baron," Draco suggested. "He knew something before, and I think it's time we got him to talk!"

In the Slytherin Chambers, Urquhart was making a show of searching for the missing boys.

_Apparently, someone __else__ got rid of them,_ he was thinking, _But gone _is _gone!_

About then, not watching where he was going, he passed right through the Bloody Baron. Urquhart gasped, and for just a moment, froze.

The Baron, however, kept right on going.

Urquhart didn't see the look on his face change, or the Ghost's wide eyes get even wider as he headed up and out of the dungeons._ Perhaps if I'd passed through Riddle all those years ago, the War wouldn't have happened, _he mused._ If we'd only KNOWN then! _"Summon the Hunt! We must find Draco Malfoy," the Baron whispered to Sir Nicholas, as they met in the entryway. "I have news that he and Potter need to know!"

"They're here, up in Hospital," Sir Nicholas replied. "What is it, old friend? Is it about the boys?"

The Baron nodded. "Something I just gleaned from passing through someone."

"This looks serious?" Nicholas asked. "You know the prohibition on Possessing? Were you noticed?"

"No. But I know where those boys are, and I've got to get _to_ them," The Baron replied. "I have a feeling that they are gone to where I have _no_ counterpart, and that all this," He gestured around wildly, "Is in danger of collapsing. Nicholas," he lowered his voice, "I know who ordered the murder of Scorpius Malfoy, and WHY, and what caused Albus Potter to shatter our initial Timeline!"

They found Harry and Draco in the Hospital Wing.

"Sir Nicholas?" Harry wondered, giving the Baron a look.

"Come with us, gentlemen," Nicholas offered, "The Baron has news."

They followed the Ghosts up to the Seventh Floor, and Harry recognized the door to the Room of Requirement at once.

"We need to find a way to those missing boys," the Baron said as they entered, and Harry flinched at what he saw.

Standing in the far corner was the Mirror of Erised, but now it cast no reflections.

"How?" Harry breathed.

"Long have we suspected that Albus was crossing some sort of Trans-Dimensional barrier, much like the barrier between the Realms of the Living and the Dead," Sir Nicholas explained. "We needed a Trans-Dimensional object. This is the only one at Hogwarts," he gestured at the mirror.

"A what-object?" Draco asked.

"Harry, do you recall how the Stone got into your pocket when you were just a Firstie?" Nicholas asked.

Harry nodded, remembering it all too well. "Dumbledore put a Spell on it, so that only one who wanted the Stone, but didn't want to _use _it, could get it." Harry blinked. "And he used the _mirror_!"

"But how does that get us the boys?" Draco asked.

"Where do you think the Stone went when Dumbledore placed it into the mirror?" The Baron asked. "It had to go _somewhere_, did it not?"

"He said it was a brilliant idea, and that _that_ was saying something." Harry recalled. "That's how the Room stores things! It calls them from other Dimensions? Other levels of being?" He gasped.

The Ghosts nodded.

"How do you know this?" Draco wondered.

"Time and Reality as you see it mean nothing to _us_," The Baron replied, "We told the boys all of this in a dream a few nights ago. They seemed to grasp it."

"You're not telling us everything, though?" Draco prompted him.

"No," The Baron replied, "As there are prohibitions. But you already know what you need to know. You know that _you_, and young Potter, shattered this Timeline and rewrote it to your own liking."

"I _had_ no choice!" Draco retorted hotly.

"You resorted to murder," The Baron countered, "And in doing so, turned your very Soul to dust! Do not argue murder with me, boy!" The Baron glared at him, his countenance chilling as he fingered one of his chains. "I will pay for one murder for all of Eternity!" He said, pointing at the dusty old mirror, which now showed a small boy with white hair. He was sitting in the privacy of his four-poster bed, crying. "Will you have _him_ pay for this, for all Eternity?"

Harry nodded, knowing full well that the Baron had killed Helena Ravenclaw so long ago and would never be done paying for it. As he thought of Draco in the same state - perhaps with only a tiny fragment of a shattered Soul - he shuddered.

"M-make it go away," Draco shivered, turning from the Mirror.

"Why can't I see him? Why can't I see Albus?" Harry fretted, knowing that was what his heart truly desired.

There was a flicker, and for just a second, Harry saw himself holding the Elder Wand in a hand that wore a hideous ring. Parts of his reflection were phasing in and out, then Reflection-Harry vanished.

"Some small part of you covets Power, just as some small part of Malfoy fears loneliness," The Baron advised. "I would advise that you both purge it," He cautioned Harry. "Perhaps a small bit of damage from sharing The Dark Lord's Soul?"

But Draco was moving towards the Mirror again. "Yesss," he seemed to hiss as he ran his hands over the dusty frame, "That's why I can't feel them. They've gone to where I...where I..." he faltered, as the Mirror carried the little boy away into swirling darkness.

"After the Final Battle, Harry freely gave you back the Hawthorne wand," The Baron informed him, and Draco could only sink to his knees in front of the Mirror and nod as another memory from another Draco took him. The Baron waited a moment. "And years later, you would turn it upon yourself."

"I remember," Draco gasped. "But _how_ can I remember? It was in the Manor after Scorpius was...gone," he choked, "I thought _nothing_ could be worse than..." he choked, reaching out to the mirror.

But the crying child was gone.

"WHY do you think _I_ never moved on?" The Baron interrupted, pointing a long finger at the Mirror. "Who would _choose_ an eternal damnation - of his _own_ making?"

"There is no Draco Malfoy in the place they've gone to," Harry reasoned, "Is there?" Then he turned to the Ghosts again. "How do you know all this? 'What is Time to a Ghost', you said? What are you _not_ telling us?"

The Ghosts exchanged a long look. "Never before has Time been so disrupted," a new voice replied, as the Grey Lady appeared among them. "We did not know this before, until that one," she pointed at Draco, "Committed this abomination!"

"How _dare_ you?" Draco snarled at her, but she held up her hand.

"Is life so cheap to the Death Eaters, that you would just toss it aside in favor of another?" Helena Ravenclaw asked. "Was Scorpius Malfoy's life worth the ruined lives of two other little boys? How much damage have you done - and what is yet to come?"

"Dust," Draco whispered, running his hand along the floor as he just sat there. He held up his hand.

"What is it?" Harry asked, noting how Draco's hand shimmered.

"Fragments of a Soul that has gone to Hell," Draco replied wistfully, as the Room produced a pillow and steaming pot of tea. "And if this night must last for a lifetime," Draco added, "Then so be it." He then turned to the Grey Lady. "I understand now."

"This _very_ room is Trans-Dimensional, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"One of my mother's greatest discoveries," Helena replied. "Think carefully about what you require!" And then the Ghosts were gone.

They sat in silence for a long while, both men staring into a mirror that would show them only swirling blackness.

"Draco?"

"Which one?" Draco asked in reply.

"How long do we sit here and watch?"

"As long as it takes."

Lunchtime came and went.

"Getting dark out," Harry later observed, as a window appeared on the far wall.

"I'd heard about this mirror," Draco mused, "Heard you found it in First Year?"

"Yeah?"

"As I understand it, we shouldn't see the same things?" Draco asked.

"Ron and I never saw the same things. I wanted to show him my parents," Harry recalled.

"Maybe you broke it," Draco joked. Then he flinched, as the mirror seemed to shiver just a bit.

"What?" Harry had just enough time to ask, as the blackness began to swirl again. Two images seemed to forming up.

"Get in front of it with me!" Draco snapped, grabbing Harry's arm. "I think it wants both of us!"

Slowly, the images in the blackness began to take shape - Humanoid shapes.

"I need to know where they are, which is where I am not," Draco spoke to Mirror. "I need to call them back."

"Bring my son back to me," Harry added, feeling a chill as if he'd made this request of Draco before.

For just an instant, they saw a clear image of both boys, dressed all in white.

Then the Mirror of Erised exploded outwards in a brilliant flash of green, showering them in a storm of flying shards of glass and golden dust. Both men had just enough time to raise their arms, shielding their faces, before they were knocked to the floor as something physical collided with them.

"Get his wand!" A boy's voice shouted, as Harry felt a hard impact to his chest as someone fell on him, then - "Expelliarmus!"

Draco felt his wand fly out of his pocket, and as both men rolled out of the scattering of dusty glass, they looked up to see Albus and Scorpius standing before them.

The boys were dressed in white hospital pyjamas, and they were carefully avoiding the broken glass with their bare feet as they began circling the two dazed men.

"What are the three Houses of Hogwarts?" Scorpius demanded, taking aim at Harry as Albus covered Draco.

"Boys?" The men gasped in wonder, starting to move towards them, but the boys warned them off. The ring on Scorpius finger began to shine green.

"HOUSES?" Albus repeated at the disarmed men.

"Four," Harry replied, as he named them. "And you are Albus Severus Potter, my second son, and you got your mouth washed out with soap by your Grandma Molly last summer for saying 'the F-word'!"

"What's this?" Draco shook his head, as Albus seemed pleased.

"PolyJuice key questions," Harry informed him, "A security question."

"Merlin, you've trained your kids as little mini-Aurors already?" Draco sighed.

"Four Houses, good," Scorpius agreed, aiming Harry's wand at his own father. "What's my favorite toy?" Scorpius demanded.

"Thunderhead, the Hippogriff," Draco answered, as the boy's face turned pink and he lowered the wand.

"You have a toy Hippogriff?" Harry had to ask. Scorpius glared at him.

"Boys?" Draco then asked, his voice quavering, "What...what's all this?"

"Is it him, Aspie?" Scorpius asked Albus, "I'm still a bit loopy from that ride to tell?"

"Seems to be," Albus agreed, giving his father's wand a look. "Four Houses, wand's right, question's right."

"Are you two quite finished hopping parallel Timelines now?" Harry asked.

"Who you married to?" Albus asked Draco, who answered in annoyance.

"Don't ask me," Scorpius shook his head. "I dunno if I'm comin' or goin', or WHO my own Mum is anymore!"

"Malfoys do not drop the 'g' on verbs," Draco informed him. Scorpius finally smiled at him. "Nor do they wear the color orange, or..." Draco launched into a short speech.

"Daddy!" Scorpius then cried, throwing himself at the man that he now recognized as his father. Draco grabbed him up and kissed him. Both father and son wept at the reunion, both holding tight for fear of being lost again.

At Draco's feet, the shards of glass turned to dust and began slithering across the floor towards him to vanish upon contact with him as those parts of his Soul reunited. The Castle shivered.

"Dad," Albus sniffled, as he was caught up in a similar embrace.

When they had all regained their composure, the boys gave the wands back and Harry verified their magical power signatures.

They matched.

"Great," Draco snarled, "Just what I needed! A wand that answers to _two_ bloody Potters now!" But he had to laugh.

"Boys, where were you?" Harry asked, and the boys began telling them about the Dark Mirror Timeline that they'd just vacated.

The Room provided them with soft couches and a steaming tray of food that it must have summoned from the kitchens as the seemingly tired boys sat down.

"He warned me," Harry sighed, when the boys were done with their story of the Dark Mirror Hogwarts. "The Baron warned me about lusting for Power!"

"I can't see you sending children to a concentration camp," Draco offered, his arm still protectively around his son. "He said he was going to find them, didn't he?" Draco then asked.

"The Baron helped us, and so did Dobby," Albus nodded, "And Uncle Neville."

"Y-You met Dobby?" Harry gasped, and Albus nodded. "And now he's somehow saved my son's life," Harry added, biting his lower lip and hugging his son again.

"What I want to know, though," Draco cut in, grabbing up his son's hand, "Is where did you get this beautiful ring?"

"Out of Salazar Slytherin's secret safe," Scorpius shrugged. "His portrait told us about it, after Aspie gave him 'what for' in Parseltongue! Show 'em the key, Aspie!"

Albus pulled out the key as well, which had an emerald like the one in the ring set in its head.

"You...you inherited that from me?" Harry gasped in shocked wonder, "And you _never _told me?"

"I didn't _know_," Albus shrugged, "I never met a _real_ snake before, what _wanted_ to chat?"

"These don't belong here," Harry then pointed out, scanning the objects with is wand. "And they were created via Blood Magic!" He then flicked his wand, and the Patronus burst forth. "Hermione, I need you in the R-R," Harry told it, and off it went.

"Salazar's portrait talked to you?" Draco wondered, his jaw dropping. "They said it was painted before the Portrait-Animation Spell was discovered?"

"Apparently not," Harry reasoned, "Just keep these objects away from that safe. We don't want them coming into contact with their counterparts - which is what started all of this to begin with?" He looked up at Draco.

Draco looked away. "It's not over, you know," He admitted. "Not until we find a way to set this right again. The slightest injury could send them away again."

"You found them!" Hermione gasped, panting as she entered the room. "What a mess!" She then hugged the boys as well, and Scorpius seemed overly pleased to see her.

"I'll explain later," Harry told her.

"I see you're all back?" The Baron's voice then spoke up, as he appeared before them.

"Thank you, sir," both boys nodded at him.

"The boys are quite correct, gentlemen - it is _not_ over," The Baron then informed them. "Time is still not as it once was."

"But there's no way to fix it," Hermione countered. "Not with the Office of Time destroyed?"

The Baron winked at the boys, which really wasn't a pleasant sight!

"Can you use this, Mum...Ma'am? Sorry!" Scorpius asked, pulling the emerald-encrusted Time-Turner from under his pyjama top. "Slytherin invented it, with some help from Ms. Ravenclaw!"

They all just stared at him.

"It was in the safe," Albus offered helpfully.

"And I don't suppose you'll tell us where this safe is?" Harry asked.

The boys shook their heads.

"Only true Slytherins can open it, Grandfather said so," Albus replied.

"Grandf-...?!" Harry spluttered, and Draco laughed again.

"The Peverell brothers," Hermione snapped her fingers, "Of course! They must have been Slytherin's Great-something-Grandsons!"

"Our eyes match," Albus offered helpfully, nodding.

"Make ready," The Baron advised, "Before this all begins again," He reminded them.

The Trio went into action at once.

"Get Iris in here and blanket these boys in maximum protective spells," Harry advised, "For the moment, we don't want anyone to know..." he then paused.

"What?" Draco asked.

"Why did Professor Urquhart suggest 'Poppy' come and see you, instead of 'Iris' Pomfrey, just hours ago?" Harry asked.

"Odd, I wasn't listening," Draco replied, "But Miles should know her name? He's been teaching here since..."

"Since the boys were in Primary!" Hermione cut in. "There's no way he could make that kind of slip! He was a student here when Poppy was the attending Mediwitch, but she long since moved to St. Mungo's after the War, when Iris took her place!"

"But why now?" Draco asked, "Why did Albus jump Timelines when he got here? What's the trigger? Something he ate?" Draco seemed to joke. "Or a…potion?"

"The Magical field surrounding the Castle?" Hermione offered. "It's been know to do strange things to powerfully Magical children in the past?"

"I'll have Ron and some Aurors go over the Express, it's still parked at Hogsmeade Station," Harry offered. "That's if Honeydukes hasn't cleaned out the trolley yet! Blast!" He then gave his wand a shake. "I hope this works! I've trying to get the spell right for weeks! RON!" He yelled at the wand. "Ron, are you there?"

"What is it, Mate?" Ron's voice crackled from the wand, "Hey! You finally got it right!"

"Fabulous grasp of the obvious, for a Weasley," Draco sighed, and Hermione punched him on the arm. "But much easier than a Patronus, and more sneaky! I like it!"

"Ron, are we secure?" Harry asked.

"Yeah?"

"Good! Get a team to Hogsmeade at once. Check the trolley on the Express, and don't EAT _anything_ off of it! If it's gone, get to Honeydukes and close them down. I want their entire lot scanned for traces of anything Trans-Dimensional. Get an Unspeakable or something if you have to, or someone who used to work for the Office of Time. We're looking for an alternate, or odd, Magical Signature in any of the food!"

"Bloody hell! You think someone tried to poison Albie?" Ron asked, missing the point.

The Baron nodded.

"Draco, once Iris is in here, keep her with the boys," Harry went on, "I want them impervious to any injury, for as long as she can make it last. Have her make sure they didn't get hurt in that...that other place," he fumbled, but went on, "Then you go and find some way to chat up Urquhart. See if you can get him to slip up again!"

"He's not going to talk to me," Draco countered, "I'm sure you noticed before, how he greeted us? He's hated _me_ since I made the first move to buy out _**Slug & Jiggers**_ after the War, and-..." Draco then froze.

"What about Professor Urquhart?" Scorpius cut in.

"He was there, in Diagon Alley," Draco recalled, "I passed him coming out of _**Gringott's**_!"

"When?" Hermione asked.

"The day of the murders," Draco mumbled, which got him a look from the boys.

"Lots of customers there," Harry discounted that idea, "But he _is_ extremely good at Potions. What did you do, jack up prices on him?"

"He could have been in the bidding war, when old man Jigger announced he was selling," Draco mused, "It was supposed to be confidential bids, you know, but..."

"You bragged?" Harry interrupted.

"I made it clear that I wanted it," Draco corrected him. "Malfoys do not 'brag', per say."

"We _don't_?" Scorpius wondered, confused.

"There's a difference, son," Draco informed him. "It's a question of style. But you're right, Harry," Draco went on, "Miles' family is sort of well-off, and they could have been after it, too. It would fit, with him teaching here and always having been so secretive about his own personal work."

"He is kinda creepy," Albus agreed.

"An' he looks at me funny, when he thinks I'm not watching," Scorpius added.

"You'll recall he didn't run for help when you told him to, today?" Draco agreed. "When he got Pomfrey's name wrong?"

"I don't think he heard me. He was muttering - very involved in the game," Harry said icily.

Hermione's eyes sparkled in realization. "Just like Quirrel was when he tried to kill you in your first match! He couldn't break eye contact, or blink! He was tampering with Albie's broomstick!"

"Harry," Draco then said very softly, moving to embrace his son again, "Do you think...Miles ordered the attack on Scorpy?"

"With that amount of money involved, and having lost a very lucrative business to you? Draco, you of all people should know what money will drive most men to do?" Harry answered flatly. "You said you saw him at Gringott's? What if he was planning the buyout, and your move got him in trouble with the Goblins? What if he promised them something?"

"He might have taken the teaching position to be safe, here," Draco agreed. "Even if he did turn the loan money back over at once, they'd have still wanted a murderous fee for it!"

"Murderous," Harry nodded again. "It's beginning to fit! Something about this derailed Urquhart's plans for his future, it would seem, and he just might have ordered, if not carried out, the hit on the Hogwarts Express that you went back to prevent!"

The boys exchanged a long look, and Albus' eyes went distant. So did Scorpius'. _The nightmares_, both boys thought, nodding at each other as they realized it, _THAT really happened! That's how we were killed!_

"Excellent," the Baron sighed, having been his usual silent self during the exchange. "Now that you have deduced it, the restraints upon us are broken!"

"What do you mean?" Draco gasped.

"He knew?" Albus spoke up.

"All that stuff the Ghosts told us in the dream?" Scorpius agreed. "They knew!"

"Boys," Harry started, but Albus interrupted him.

"We know, Dad. We remember it, just like Uncle Draco remembers things he never lived through."

Hermione blinked. "'Uncle Draco'?"

"Long story, _Mum_," Scorpius said with a signature smirk.

Hermione blinked.

"There are many restrictions upon Ghosts," The Baron then informed them, "Many things about us are unspeakable. Many things that we know, or can find out, or powers that we have, cannot be known to mortal men. Suffice it to say, you are correct. I know your premise to be fact, but I cannot reveal how."

"But you told the boys?" Harry countered.

"Just enough for them to figure out how to put this right," The Baron nodded.

Hermione looked shocked. "You can't seriously think we'd let them use that thing?" She pointed at the Time-Turner.

"But we've gotta undo this!" Albus protested, "We've gotta find out what's making me jump!" He looked down at his feet and sniffled. "I...I can't keep it up," Albus explained, "Not knowin' where or when I'll be from one minute to the next! You dunno what it's like, havin' everything change around you, and you don't even know what House you live in! I thought I was goin' mad! If it doesn't stop...I...I just might!"

"Harry?" Harry's wand buzzed with Ron's voice, "You there? We just got done with the Express, and the trolley's clean. You want us to hit Honeydukes?"

"Yes, Ron," Harry agreed, closing the connection. "That's got him out of the way for a bit. So it wasn't anything in the food. Blast!"

About then, Madame Pomfrey showed up. They didn't explain it to her, but she did as they asked when they left the Room to discuss it in the corridor. Hermione prudently took the Time-Turner before the boys could activate it.

"It's got to be the magical field around the Castle then," Hermione reasoned. "For some reason, Hogwarts is doing this to Albie." She grimaced. "**Argh**! But _why_?"

"Maybe it's trying to protect itself?" Draco offered.

"From an eleven-year-old boy?" Harry wondered. "That's mental!"

"Either way, we've got the means to undo this," she held up the Time-Turner, "And we know the critical point at which to arrive. This time, though, it's imperative that we NOT BE SEEN!"

"Let's tell the boys then," Harry offered.

"Let's not," Hermione countered, throwing the gold chain around their necks. "Let's just do it. That way, Time changes back to how it should have been, and the boys are none the wiser."

"But what about us? I mean, after all, Hermione, you _were _wrong the last time you tried to warn me about this."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed heavily. "Remember what I told you? How I remember it all? I left from a point in Time when my Scorpius was almost twelve years old. He'd been killed. I went back to when he was just starting primary school. And I remained there. I'm actually about five years older than I really am. I am the Future-Draco - not the 'real' Draco. That Draco was turned to dust upon my arrival in the Past."

Harry looked at the Mirror. "That's what the dust is?"

Draco nodded.

"I hadn't thought of that," Hermione conceded, giving them both a long look. "But if we undo _all of it_, this time, then I think it's very likely that we'll all cease to exist and be replaced when _this_ whole future is wiped out - again."

"I hope so," Draco sighed again. "Or I'm going to be a hundred years old before my son graduates!"

**II**

** Redux -**

**Blaze of Glory**

Harry felt a chill. "I just hope we don't remain in the past, five years older, and so much wiser," he shook his head.

"What about Urquhart?" Draco asked, "It's not like we've got the time to interrogate him? And if the Baron can assure us that he was the one who ordered the murder of my son, what's to keep him from doing it again, once we get back? I mean, we can't stop him from planning it, with Goyle and Zabini, can we?"

"We'll deal with Urquhart once we put you and the boys all back together again," Harry replied darkly, "Trust me."

"All the King's horses, and all the King's men," Hermione added, as she spun the Time-Turner.

Nothing happened.

"It won't work for _you_, I don't think," Albus piped up, as the door opened.

The boys were standing there, dressed all in black with cloaks, looking ready to travel. It seemed that they'd required clothing, and the Room had provided it.

"If you think for one second that you two are..." Harry began, but Draco cut him off.

"This device came from the hand of Salazar Slytherin _himself_," Draco spoke up. "And everything we've done, we've had to do in two's. The boys escaped the Dark Mirror Timeline together, which I have a feeling no longer exists. Scorpy?" Draco reached for his son's hand. "See this?" He pointed out the ring, which was shining green again. "Do you honestly think that the Portrait would have given these boys anything that could be activated by - no offense - a Muggleborn Gryffindor? Or _any _Gryffindor, for that matter? This looks like a very old Slytherin Prefect's ring."

"Grandfather said he'd never give help to 'Mudbloods or Blood Traitors'," Albus offered.

"ALBUS!" Harry snapped at him. "You know better than to use those words! And could you not refer to _him_ as 'Grandfather', please?"

"Tha's what he said; can't pick your relatives, you know," Scorpius shrugged. "Anyway, we'll need to go and get our wands, unless you want us to steal yours again?"

"_You_ are not going," Harry told them pointedly, as Hermione ducked out of the chain. Harry nodded at Draco. Draco spun the Time-Turner.

Again - nothing.

"We'll be right back," Albus snorted, as they left the adults standing there looking bewildered.

"Nice of that room to help us out," Scorpius observed, as Albus checked the key that he now wore on a silver chain around his neck. Once they had their wands, they were met by the adults in the Entry Hall.

"Ready?" Albus asked.

"For what?" Draco countered.

"To go to Diagon Alley, where you killed those men?" Scorpius reminded him.

Everyone blinked.

"You know about that?" Draco gasped.

"We know a _lot_ more than you think we do," Scorpius replied. "And it won't do to go back five or six years in the middle of the Seventh Floor here, will it?"

"And no, we can't tell you _how _we know," Albus added. "I guess...all this jumping...dumped a bunch of new info into our heads?"

"The Baron and I are going to have a long talk about this," Draco snorted. "Harry, you coming?"

"Let's get this over with," Harry sighed, "And when we get back, you and I are going to have a long talk, young man!" He threatened his son.

"Just remember," Hermione shook her head, "DO NOT BE SEEN! DO NOT go near your old selves, and DO NOT make contact with them-'you'-whatever! Just prevent the murders, and get back here."

"Won't this bloody thing burn itself out, like the one you gave me before?" Draco had to ask.

"I have no idea. Go ask Grandpa," She told Albus. Harry gave her a deadly look, but said nothing.

Albus just laughed as they left the Campus to Disapparate.

**-O-----------**

"Oh my God, they've activated it!" Colin breathed, staring in shock at the Arch.

"I thought that thing was a _myth_?!" Fred gasped.

"No time," Colin retorted, "Let's go, before they bugger up the Timeline again!"

**-O-----------**

**Diagon Alley, 5 years Past – during "Dust" (M)**

The dark night of the deserted alleyway flashed into bright, warm summer sunlight as four figures materialized out of nowhere, frightening a stray cat out of its wits. They hid behind some rubbish bins, checked their watches, and began making plans.

"This looks like the right day, thank Salazar. Urquhart should be arriving at Gringott's within the hour," Draco informed Harry. "Why don't you go there and see if you can find out what sort of business he conducted?"

"Let's hope the Cloak still works in their lobby," Harry nodded, throwing it over himself, "What about you and the boys?"

"We'll wait here for signs of an ice cream sale," Draco replied, "That's the trigger. When Scorpy starts ordering, the six-year-old version, that is, that'll be the sign that Draco-Two is about to drag Goyle and Zabini in here."

"And?" The boys both asked.

"Then ... we wing it," Draco shrugged.

"But what's in it for me?" Griphook the Goblin was demanding of a sullen, dark man who was arguing with him at desk marked "Business Loans".

"Once we've outbid the Malfoys, with whom I'm sure you've lost no love, I'll offer you any benefits of the business at no cost," Urquhart retorted. "Free prescription and potion supplies for life? _Whatever_ you require?"

"_Interesting_," Griphook agreed, "I must say, this is the most intriguing bidding war we've ever financed. But you realize that the Malfoy fortune is generating interest here at an almost faster rate than your projected income will be? Are you sure this amount will be enough to take over the Apothecary?"

"It's ridiculously high as it is," Urquhart snapped, "Draco Malfoy wouldn't dare go any higher than this."

"But _you _would?"

"Malfoy won't have your help, will he, Griphook?"

"No," The Goblin snorted. "Never mind the fact that I don't _want _him to have it. Perhaps he needs an object lesson in paying for what he did in the War?"

Under the Cloak, Harry bit his lip to stifle a gasp. _Griphook's in on it, for revenge?" _He realized.

"Paying?" Urquhart had to ask.

"There's not enough treasure in the Malfoy vault to repay what they did to me and my kind in the War," Griphook explained. "You wizards are all thieves!"

"But you can't get at their deposits," Urquhart countered. Then his face paled.

"There is one way," Griphook reminded him, "If there are no more heirs, and no Last Will when the family dies out, then all deposits revert to Gringott's!" Griphook added with a leer that gave Harry a chill. Then Griphook shoved a quill and parchment at the startled man. "You can start by getting rid of the little one. I'm patient, Urquhart. I've waited this long, I can wait a few more years while you pay interest on the loan!"

"And if he still outbids me?"

"That would be - unfortunate," Griphook replied. "For you."

"I'll need...assistance...with this," Urquhart admitted.

"Just don't tell them what it's for," Griphook advised, "I'm sure the Malfoys have no shortage of enemies? And as I said, I can wait!"

Harry watched as Urquhart signed the paper, fighting down the urge to arrest them both right then and there._ I can wait just as well, Griphook,_ he told himself.

"HOT FUDGE!" A piping little voice called out, and in the alleyway, Draco and the boys froze.

"Merlin's pants! Did I really go out looking like _that_?!" Albus gasped.

"Yes, you did," Draco snorted, "Watch now, at the rear of the crowd! I should be showing up at any second."

"This is gonna be neat, three of you here at once," Scorpius observed, as small flecks of gold dust began forming up in the air around them.

"He's … I'm here," Draco whispered, as the dust seemed to gravitate towards him and vanish upon contact.

"Isn't _that_ changing things already?" Albus asked, and Draco nodded.

"Blaise! Gregory! So good to see you!" Draco Malfoy came up behind them and greeted his old friends, throwing a casual glance over his shoulder at the two little boys who were standing in line to order ice cream. He absently brushed the golden dust off his fine shirt, which drifted off on the breeze and into the alleyway.

"Daddy?" the little blond at the counter asked in confusion. The dark haired boy beside him just shrugged.

"Blaise, a word?" Draco asked.

Goyle looked at Zabini, confused. "Weren't you just...?" Goyle asked, pointing at the ice cream counter at a blond man with his back to them.

"Oh, no!" Draco smiled at them, leaning in closer, "Say, I've got something that you simply MUST see?" He gestured at the dark alleyway. "Something of Father's you know?" He hinted.

"Cool!" The two old Slytherins said in unison, following their version of Draco into the alley.

Draco-Present promptly Disillusioned himself and the boys. "Here they come!" He hissed.

Once they were all hidden, Past-Draco-Two pulled out his wand and cast a Muffliato over them. He then Disillusioned them all, not realizing the proximity of three other sets of eyes that could see through the overlapping Charms.

"What is it?" Goyle asked greedily. "Something Dark?"

"Ohhhhh yesssss," Past-Draco-Two almost purred, as he pulled out Scorpius' burnt, ruined wand.

"What's that?" Zabini breathed. "An evil wand?"

"This," Past-Draco-Two said softly, as one single tear rolled down his cheek and fell, anointing the ruined wand that had once resided in a warm, smooth little hand to do its Magic, "Is the wand of a dead child."

Scorpius gulped as he stared at what remained of his wand. Images of the nightmares flashed through his mind, and some part of him knew that he was staring down the men who had killed him - in some other place, in some other Time. His heart ached as he also took in the expression on the face of his Past-Father - the man who was willing to sacrifice everything to save him._ But what do we _**_do_**_?_

"Cool!" Goyle snorted. "What does it do?"

"Only one thing," Past-Draco-Two smiled. He then leveled his own hawthorn wand, and the dead ironwood wand, at his old friends.

"You see, my friends," Past-Draco-Two sighed, "In about five years or so, someone is going to attempt to murder those two boys out there eating ice cream. One of them is my son, Scorpius, and they will succeed. The other is Albus Severus Potter, the namesake of a noble man who laid down his life for a love that was forever denied to him. The ones who will murder them will leave a calling card that calls those boys 'The Shame of Slytherin House'. Ring any bells?" Past-Draco-Two added darkly.

The two men gaped at Past-Draco-Two, then exchanged a quick look. Past-Draco-Two caught it.

"But Draco...we...we didn't...I mean, we wouldn't...kill your SON?" Zabini gasped.

Scorpius could feel eyes on him right then, although he knew that no one could see them. Someone was behind them, and Albus seemed to realize it too. There was a creak, as if something had shifted. Albus noticed something silver-green out of the corner of his eye.

_It can't be, can it?_ Albus wondered.

"No, Blaise, you're right, you WON'T," Past-Draco-Two agreed, "And you will not harm his best friend, the boy who will give up his own life trying to save him, either."

"Malfoy?" Goyle gasped.

_This is the time_, Albus realized, nodding to his best friend - the friend that he had just heard that he would willingly lay down his life for.

And Albus knew that it was right. "Now!" He hissed at Scorpius.

Scorpius seemed to realize what was happing, and both boys pulled their hoods up and over their faces and jumped out into the alley - and out from under cover. Their Draco made to grab them, but too late...

"STOP!" The boys both shouted.

"AVAD -... _what's_ this?!" Past-Draco-Two gasped in surprise.

"You can't do this, Mr. Malfoy," Albus said, in as low of a voice that he could manage.

"If you do, you'll destroy not only these men, but their families - and your own as well," Scorpius added.

"Who the bloody hell are _you_, boy?" Zabini demanded, as he and Goyle drew their own wands.

Both Dracos flinched, and the air began to fill with swirling motes of golden dust. The boys felt the ground shaking, as if with a small earthquake, but as they stood there between the old friends who had now turned to enemies, they realized something:

It had _**all**_ just come undone.

The dust was a veritable choking cloud.

"PETRIFICUS PARTIALIS!" Both boys yelled, using the distraction, as Goyle and Zabini found themselves as stiff as statues from the neck down.

In Past-Draco-Two's hand, the ironwood wand then turned to dust, as did his own.

"No!" he gasped, "This was my only ... Albus' and Scorpy's last chance," he whimpered. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU BOYS THINK YOU ARE?!" He then demanded of them, his voice broken, "YOU'VE JUST COST ME MY SON!"

"It's unspeakable," Scorpius retorted, as he pointed a finger right at his father.

Draco-Two saw the shining green ring then, and he flinched. So did the other two, as best they could. From his concealment, Draco-Present looked away, bracing himself for the bliss of non-existence that he knew that he _now_ had to face.

_It's finally over_...

The boys had undone it all: There would be no double murder. There would be no shattering of Draco's Soul, and no bits of that Soul to bond with the boys and send them on their odyssey that had brought them here.

Somewhre in the distance, Draco-Present thought he heard a train whistle.

_The Hogwarts Express, five years from now, has rolled into the station at last! Carrying two perfect boys!_ Draco-Present then knew.

There were no tears.

_So long as they meet up out there, _Present-Draco realized, as he heard: "More hot fudge!" the piping voice of a little boy was saying again.

_More?_

Then Draco-Present felt hands on his shoulders, but he didn't react. He just bowed his head in relief. "It's over," he whispered.

"It's _not_ over, Malfoy," a young man's reedy voice told him, as Draco-Present looked up to see two men in black cowls standing behind him. "Scorpius could just as easily dispatch them, as you once did."

"They'll hear us!" Draco-Present hissed.

"No, they won't," a strangely familiar voice of the other man added.

"You...you're Unspeakables, aren't you?" Draco-Present gasped. "This is what you do!"

"This is what your _son_ does," the first man replied. "What his best friend does with him. From _our_ perspective, that is."

As the two cowled boys faced their petrified would-be murderers, albeit some years after, they exchanged a look of frightening realization as more of the golden dust seemed to be forming up around them as well. There was a flash of Ghostly light around the two boys, and a sudden calm came over them.

"On Christmas Eve of his First Year," Albus then said, the words coming unbidden to his lips, "Brock Zabini will die at Hogwarts when he stays over for Holiday. He'll die of a broken heart, when his Magic gives out - literally - because he's pined himself away over his daddy."

Blaise Zabini just stared at the mysterious boy, then he glanced at Goyle as Albus' chest began to shine green. Albus pulled out his key so that they could see it.

"And during his Second Year," Scorpius turned on Goyle, "Your son will be arrested and sent to Azkaban for losing his temper. Without guidance, such as it might be," he snorted at the thuggish Goyle, "He won't ever know right from wrong, and he'll feel no remorse at killing another student during a Quidditch match with a Beater's bat." His ring then lit up again.

"That...that ring!" Goyle gasped, glancing at Scorpius, too, "Father said it was a myth!"

"What, this old thing?" Scorpius snorted, "It's just a thousand-year-old Prefect's ring?"

Zabini's face paled. "This isn't real! You can't know all that!" He gasped, "It's just rumors! You can't be..."

"Unspeakable, so shut up," another voice then cut in, as they all looked to see yet another pair of cowled men entering the alleyway.

"Might I suggest, since this travesty has been averted, that we all go get some ice cream and forget it happened?" The other new man offered. "Besides," he glanced at the boys, buffing his silver and green ring on his cape, "You two need an education, first, before _we_ can even come here to tell you that! Must speak to the jeweler," he added whimsically.

"My head hurts," Goyle moaned.

From his hiding place behind the rubbish bin, Draco-Present fell over in a faint. He leaned back, and felt himself being caught as the cloud of dust now forming up within his Disillusionment began to choke him.

"All the King's men," Colin whispered.

"Just put Malfoy back together again," Fred nodded. "Gotta admit, I didn't think he had it in him!"

"How much of this..." Draco-Present managed, as he felt the world beginning to spin away from him, "Will I...will the boys...remember?"

"That remains to be seen, as you arrived from an aborted Future, but before the EVENT that aborted it," Colin told him. "Why don't you ask your son about it..."

"In about twenty years?" Fred snickered.

And then Draco-Present vanished into a shimmer of gold, taking the remaining dust with him, at the exact same time that Draco-Two began to cough and hack as well.

Then the only Draco Malfoy left in the alley looked up, his colorless eyes wide in shock as the world seemed to jump out from under him.

He smiled.

On the front steps of Gringott's bank, a breeze whipped around and up the steps, and passersby thought they might have heard a surprised gasp. But no one was there, except for an owl taking flight.

**Hogwarts, RoR, 5 Years Later (Story present day)**

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a frenzied owl appeared at the Seventh Floor window of the Room of Requirement and crashed into Hermione Weasley with a Howler. The red two-page letter promptly exploded with Harry Potter's voice in a puff of golden dust:

**"HERMIONE! IF YOU'RE STILL AT HOGWARTS, FIND URQUHART! GET RON, AND ME, IF YOU CAN FIND ME! HE'S THE ONE WHO KILLED SCORPIUS!"**

When Hermione finished with the lengthy letter, she saw the explanation ... and the postage date that was five years past.

"But I thought they'd changed it back?" Hermione wondered, as it all came back to her. "The Room shielded me! I needed it to shield me from the changes, so I'd know that Urquhart did it!"

"Yes," the Bloody Baron sighed. "Time has resumed its normal shape."

**Back in Diagon Alley – 5 Years Past (Ending of "Dust" (M))**

"If we let you go, can you sort this all out without killing each other?" Albus then demanded of Zabini, Goyle, and Draco-Only.

"I would suggest that you try," the first cowled man threatened them, as a bit of green light began to shine from his breast pocket. "Why don't you all get your boys together and go and have some ice cream? Invite Tommy Nott, while you're at it. And Mason Gamble. He's sitting over by The Magical Menagerie, dreaming about a unwanted little owl he can't afford."

"Yes," the second man agreed, "Because I'm really not looking forward to doing this all over again...again!"

And Draco-Only nodded, stepping out of the now-empty alleyway with his two perplexed old friends.

"I can count it myself, Daddy," little Scorpius Malfoy then said proudly, pulling out some money, as three men stepped up behind him.

But as the little boy turned around to smile at the blond man just behind him, Draco-Only saw his initial self simply blink out of existence. The little boy looked all around, confused.

Only the man's hawthorn wand, polished and unspoiled, fell to land on the neatly swept sidewalk and roll over to the dark-haired boy - almost as if it knew him._ But the wand knows Harry..._

There was only a very small puff of dust, and Draco-Only felt it all coming back to him.

"You dropped this, sir!" the garishly dressed miniature version of Harry Potter in line spoke up, picking up the fallen wand and handing it to its Master.

And Draco-Only accepted it with a nod.

"Who're you?" Scorpius Malfoy asked the strange boy.

"What just happened?" Zabini interrupted, "Where's Miles, anyway?"

"Who _cares_?" Goyle replied, as a small black boy with short dreadlocks and a heavier Caucasian boy came running up to meet them. "His crazy idea got the Unspeakables's attention, an' I'm NOT goin' along with him!"

"So what do we do _now_?" Zabini asked.

"I may be slow, but I know not to mess with Unspeakables," Goyle admitted. "And besides, that short one was wearing Salazar Slytherin's ring!"

"Let's go buy that owl," Draco suggested, nodding at the Shoppe across the way where a sad little boy sat with his nose pressed up against the window.

The boys seemed to be ignoring their fathers as they began ordering.

"Oh, I'm Albus Severus Potter, by the way," Albus introduced himself, offering his hand to Scorpius.

And little Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy shook it.

"You think we got it right this time?" The man with the glowing key at his throat asked his friend.

"I bloody well _hope_ so," the man with the glowing ring replied. "Did you see where our intrepid others went?"

"I can only assume that this little toy put them back where and _when_ they…WE all belong!" The first mused, holding up an emerald-encrusted Time-Turner. "Otherwise, we'd not be _here_ now!"

And both men laughed.

"How did ol' Salazar DO that?"

"Well! Let's go ask him, shall we?"

**Note****: For months, this was the stand-alone ending while I worked on the epilogue. It's not so short after all! The next chapter will be the wrap-up, alternate endings and all! Many thanks to everyone who emailed, commented, and added the "Dust/Reality" series to their favorites. This version fixes a few glitches, foremost that it was Mason Gamble who needed an owl. You will notice, in the endings, that our heroes may have changed a few things in their one, true Reality! As with all time travel stories involving Paradoxes, however, interpretation is left open to the mind of the reader. Is a story like this ever really finished?**

**BKL8008**


	12. Chapter 12 EpilogueUnspeakable Acts

**Reality Is Bleeding**

**Unspeakable Acts ****– XII -****The Epilogue**

**-O------------**

Outside Gringott's Bank, 5 years in the Past-

**Within moments of the ending of "Dust" (M)**

Harry Potter watched as the owl took flight with his letter to Hermione, then gasped as he realized something – "If they change all of this and reset Time, then none of us will ever have _come_ here! Hermione won't know about Urquhart and Griphook, because I'll have never sent the owl!"

And with that, Harry quickly pulled his wand and fired on the owl, instantly Apparating it straight to his office he shared with Ron. He then gave his wand a shake. "I hope this doesn't alter history _too_ badly," he fretted. "RON!" He yelled at the wand. "Ron, I need you!"

"Bloody hell, Mate!" Ron's voice replied, "How'd you _do_ that? This is just like those Muggle celly-tones!"

"Ron," Harry went on, "Do _not_ ask why, but there's an owl coming with a letter for Hermione. Apparate to the office, _now_, Ron, and get the bird into the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. Tell the Room that the owl _must _appear five years from now and give Hermione that letter! The Room _must_ keep the owl exempt from Time itself! Both Albus's and Scorpius Malfoy's lives depend on it! And Ron, _never_ discuss this with anyone! Not even _me_! The very Fabric of Time depends on it! If you blow this, the whole bloody Universe may well fall apart! Expect Hermione to call you about a week into Albus's and Rose's First Year, and get to Hogwarts when she does. Arrest Potions Master Miles Urquhart, and call me at once! Then you get to Gringotts' and arrest Griphook the Goblin on fraud charges. Odds are, I won't remember any of this! – Codeword "Honeydukes 50% off sale!"

"Oh-OK?" Ron mumbled, "If you say so?"

"Ron, all I can say is that this all depends on _you_ now! There's been an incident with a Time-Turner, and let's leave it at that! Oh, and _never_ mention this cell phone spell either!" Harry informed him. "GO RON, NOW!"

"Bloody hell, the bird's here!" Ron gasped again. "Will do! Over and out!"

Harry could only grin, feeling that his best friend would get it right.

"_Merlin_, boys, don't prevent the murders just _yet_!" Harry breathed, "Or they'll be no way to indict Urquhart!"

And as Harry Potter pulled the Invisibility Cloak a bit tighter, waiting and watching the sky, something indescribable came over him. The next thing he knew, he was walking down the Alley looking for Albus. "Now where _is_ that boy?" Harry muttered, feeling ever so strangely that he'd just come from Gringotts' Bank. "And _why _am I carrying the Cloak? I thought I lent this to Teddy? Hang on, _why_ would I lend it to Teddy?"

***

"Malfoy?" Blaise Zabini asked, as they cashed out of the Magical Menagerie, "Why did we just buy that little boy such an awful owl?"

"Because that poor boy is Slytherin material, and we've got to make sure he's prepared," Draco replied, smiling as he looked out the window at little Scorpius, who was almost ready for a second round of ice cream with little Albus Potter. There were no signs of the Unspeakables, or the eleven-year-old boys anywhere.

_Merlin's beard, I get to do this all over for a THIRD time?_ Draco wondered, fighting back tears as he gazed at his son._ But I don't feel any older? Do I look any older? Or did the reversal of the Shattering somehow just…reincorporate all of those 'me's' when he…I…turned to dust?_ Then a sobering thought came to him, along with a wave of dizziness._ Sweet holy Hippogriff feathers! I remember being married to Granger!_ Draco shuddered, but then he remembered something else. _Orion!_ He almost choked, remembering his second son who wasn't …was …wasn't …was … _wasn't-_any-longer._ Gods, I still remember it ALL!_

"Thank you, sirs?" Mason Gamble said, more asking than stating, and snapping Draco out of his thoughts. "You really think I'm gonna be a Slytherin someday?" He added hopefully.

"I'm sure of it, son," Draco replied, "And if you need anything at all for school here in about five years, you just look me up, right?" And with that, Draco sent a very confused Mason Gamble on his way, chattering in delight at his new owl the whole time.

"Malfoy?" Goyle then asked nervously, "You were…were really going to k-kill us, weren't you? Before th-_they_ showed up?" Goyle whispered.

"What do _you_ think, Gregory?" Draco replied, noticing how Zabini had looked at his own son as he'd said it. "I just want to know _why_ you would have done this?"

"Brock's sick, Draco," Zabini then confessed. "Otherwise, I'd have never agreed to it or bullied Goyle into helping. I…I'm so…," he then turned away, pulling his son with him as Draco just stared. "It's LaTour's Syndrome; it affects brain chemistry when magic is used, and stress brings it on, too."

"It's somethin' you can cure," Goyle put in, his face a study in confusion, "But it's wicked expensive. Blaise was scared you'd make it cost so much, since how we all treated you after the War – an' if you bought the Apothecary - that they'd never be able to pay for Brock's medicine! And Miles, _he _said…"

"He _said_ that if you did it," Draco stated carefully, watching the two boys so as not to divulge their fathers' plans for murder, "That he would supply _it_ – and anything that _your_ family might ever need – for free?"

"Dad?" Goyle Jr. asked, and Draco handed him some coins.

"Go get some ice cream, kids! And find Tommy Nott, too!"

The boys fled.

Goyle nodded.

"How very Slytherin of you both," Draco then grinned.

"Malfoy, I…I'm sorry," Zabini offered, "But given the choice of my son or yours…"

"I'd have probably done – in fact, I've _already _done – the exact same thing, Blaise," Draco smirked at him. "The Unspeakables, whose attention Miles just attracted, can probably tell you all about that."

Goyle shivered. Draco rolled his eyes. "Greg, if I pay for it, will you _please_ take that child to Madame Pomfrey at St. Mungo's and have something done with that gorilla-forehead of his? And no, Blaise, you'll never pay a Knut for Brock's medication. Never."

"Malfoy, what is _wrong_ with you?" Zabini then asked. "You're acting very…odd?"

"Yeah, and lettin' Scorp eat with Potter's boy? And ours? Potter'll _kill_ us if he shows up!"

"No, he won't. I regret many things in my Past," Draco offered via explanation, "But all things considered, I think making Harry hate me when we were eleven years old was the worst." He paused, taking in their incredulous looks. "Friends, do you really think these boys would be living a better life now, had The Dark Lord won? Do you _really_?"

About then, Brock Zabini came back in. He was pale and shaking. "Daddy, I don' feel good," he whined, as his father bent to pick him up.

"No," Zabini confessed. "_**He**_ wouldn't have allowed Brock to li- … But we couldn't have known that _then_."

"But we do _now_!" Goyle added, which was a display of intelligence that shocked Draco so badly that he didn't know what to say. "History changed, and Draco's not gonna kill us now, are you?!" He added excitedly.

"KEEP YOUR VOICE DOWN!" Draco squeaked, "And let's go get some ice cream, shall we? I'm buying." Then Draco thought of something else. "Have you seen Malcolm Baddock lately?"

"He's probably buying more books for that creepily intelligent child of his, Martin," Zabini replied. "Why?" But Draco just grinned again, catching his reflection in the door glass on the way out.

"Now _this_ is more like it!" He said to himself, running a hand through his hair.

They had just all sat down when Harry Potter strode up, murder flashing in his eyes.

"ALBUS!" Harry yelled, "What are you doing with _them_?!"

Goyle and Zabini cringed as Mason Gamble and Tommy Nott looked on.

"Oh, sit _down_, Harry!" Draco interrupted his tirade. "Sit down! I'm _buying_, man!"

"Oh?" Harry looked perplexed. "What's the big occasion?"

"Albus just met Scorpius, you don't recall a thing, and Hermione was WRONG! Again!" Draco smiled at him, feeling as if everything were finally right with the world – again.

*******

**HOGWARTS – R.O.R.,7****TH**** FLOOR**

**~FIVE YEARS LATER (Present Day)**

Oddly enough, the two-page Howler did not autodestruct once it had gone off. Hermione Weasley clutched it tightly, then turned to the Bloody Baron.

"Will this letter continue to exist, if I remove it from here?" She asked.

The Baron nodded.

"It hath crossed a Barrier, which cannot affect the Room. You may remove it. Time hath resumed Its normal shape, as I said."

Hermione ran from the Room of Requirement, but as she rounded the corner, she crashed into her husband.

"Ron!" She gasped, realizing that Ron would know nothing of the events, had the mission been a success. She proceeded carefully. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Harry's letter!" Ron puffed, his face red and sweaty. "From five years ago? Did it come?" Hermione nodded and held it up. "Bloody hell! I sent it five years ago! It worked! 'Mione, did you know Harry really invented the cell phone-wand spell five years ago? In Diagon Alley?"

"Do tell?" Hermione grinned, "Shall we go and apprehend Urquhart now?"

"How did you…oh, right!" Ron smiled back, as she held up the letter. "So, it wasn't _you_ with the Time-Turner this time, was it?" Ron had to ask.

"No, actually it was Draco Malfoy," Hermione replied, watching as Ron's face went dark at once. "Relax, Ronald," she assured him, "This time, Draco actually did something good!"

"Prove it in court!" Ron retorted disgustedly.

"Oh, we _will_," Hermione agreed, showing him the red letter, as they set off down the stairs. "Now, the only thing we need to know is why Urquhart was acting so strangely around Scorpius and Albus, and why he called Madame Pomfrey by the wrong name. He almost acts as if…"

Hermione froze.

"Whut?" Ron asked.

"He almost acts like Albus – right after a jump!" Hermione exclaimed. Ron looked lost. "Ronald, what would a pharmacy and time travel have in common?"

Ron shrugged. "Wha's up with Albie?"

"Never mind, Ronald! Library, now!" Hermione changed track.

"I just thought of something," Ron realized, "Harry won't remember sending this letter, if Draco changed history, will he? Hang on!" Ron then gasped. "If he used his wand to call me, but he didn't invent it until just this year, then that means Harry went back…"

"Brilliant, love!" Hermione congratulated him.

"Hang on? Why did Harry go back in Time?" Ron asked.

"He and Draco had to prevent four murders," Hermione explained to her oblivious husband.

"With _Malfoy_?" Ron gasped. "Harry went back in Time with _that_ git?!"

"Of course he did!" Eleven-year-old Scorpius Malfoy interrupted, as they met him and Albus on the first floor landing. The boys looked a bit tired. Ron looked baffled.

"Boys, did they succeed?" Hermione demanded, as Albus pulled out his key and Scorpius just buffed his ring on the front of his cloak.

"Yep!" Albus declared. "I just hope dad believes us when he gets here, 'cause I don' think he's gonna remember a thing!"

"Don't _even_ tell me," Ron mumbled, waving his hands and shaking his head as they walked past the boys. "Don't tell me, I _don't _wanna know!"

"Bloody brilliant Auror he _is_, what?" Scorpius laughed.

"C'mon, Sting," Albus laughed, "Let's raid the kitchen. All this Trans-Dimensional, Unspeakable, alive-or-dead stuff really makes me hungry!"

"To say nothing of that ride on the Knight Bus, Aspie," Scorpius added. "Now _that_ was unspeakable!"

*******

**Wizengamot Chambers,**

**1 Day Later**

"Miles Urquhart and Griphook of Goblindom," the smooth voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt filled the circular room. "You both stand accused of conspiracy to alter the Timeline, commit murders, interference with Wizard commerce, and fraud through Gringotts' Bank."

"_Excuse me_?" Urquhart asked, utterly perplexed.

"And on what ridiculous evidence can you charge us, Wizard?" Griphook rasped, pointing a gnarled finger at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. "Some made-up, fanciful story from lying thieves and Death Eaters who stole what is rightfully Goblin property?"

"He's jus' not gonna let the sword of Gryffindor go, is he?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"I'm not even sure _I_ believe any of this," Harry whispered back, giving his son Albus and Scorpius Malfoy a look. "Draco, I hope you know what you're doing?"

"Minister, I must object as well," Miles Urquhart offered in a smooth tone. "What evidence can you possibly have, and for that matter, evidence for the murders of WHOM?"

"This is where it's going to get sticky," Draco whispered to Hermione, as Harry Potter got up to present their case.

"Relax, she pillaged the Library," Ron assured them.

"Minister?" Harry asked, and Shacklebolt nodded at him. "Admittedly, I have no hard evidence in this case."

Urquhart and Griphook both snorted.

"But I _do _have this," Harry held up the Howler, "Which is a detailed account of the trip back through Time that I made two days ago. This is why we have called for the arrest and trial of these two."

The Wizengamot began to buzz in whispered disbelief at once.

Shacklebolt called for order. "Auror Potter, are you saying that you have a Time-Turner?"

"No, sir. I do not. As we all know, all of them were destroyed when my friends and I demolished the Office for the Study of Time when we were Fifth Years. However, I did invoke my right as Head Auror to use whatever means I deemed necessary to prevent a Dark crime – namely, a double murder that would alter the Timeline again."

Urquhart began to fidget. Griphook sniffed. Draco caught it.

"He's getting nervous already, at the mention of Time Travel," Draco whispered to Hermione. "Why?"

"Draco, I think he might be a parallel-Urquhart," Hermione asked. "Since he got Iris's name wrong at the Quidditch tryouts. I did some digging…"

"Could be," Draco agreed. "But how?"

"I found this tidbit in the Restricted Section," Hermione began to whisper…

"So just _how,_ Harry," Shacklebolt was going on, "Did you manage to travel in Time, then, with no Time-Turner?"

"Sir, I said that _I _did not have one. However, there was _one_ Time-Turner that _did _survive the destruction of the Office of Time."

"Oh my goodness," Minerva McGonagall gasped, hand over her mouth in shock, "I totally forgot!"

"Minerva?" Shacklebolt asked.

"When Miss Granger, I mean, Mrs. Weasley, used one in her Third Year to take all the classes! She gave it back, but in all the fuss over Sirius Black, I forgot it in my desk!" McGonagall explained.

The Wizengamot erupted at once. Shacklebolt called for order.

"So you're saying that someone stole it, Potter?" He asked, and Harry nodded. "Who, then?"

"Apparently, I did, sir," Hermione answered.

"And you altered the Timeline? Why then, have we arrested these two?" Shacklebolt had to ask, rubbing his forehead. "Merlin, time travel makes my head hurt!"

"No, sir," Hermione replied, "But I intended to use it. That was before the Time-Turner was stolen from _me_, however, by Albus Severus Potter, in an aborted Future, who then gave it to someone else."

"You used it?" Shacklebolt asked Hermione.

"No."

"Albus used it?"

"No, sir!" Albus piped up.

"Well then WHO DID?! Do I even _want_ to know?" Shacklebolt asked with a groan.

"Me, sir," Draco Malfoy then stood up, and the room went quiet.

"Draco," Harry hissed at him, "If you've got a card to play that I don't know about, now is the time!"

Draco had to grin at that remark. Hermione winked at him.

"Sir, in light of the fact that, not only the Timeline from which the Time-Turner originated, but countless other parallel ones as well have been eliminated, all evidence to support Harry's accusations against Miles and Griphook has been erased. There is only the letter that he sent from the past," Draco began.

"Which is hardly proof that we've done anything wrong!" Urquhart objected. "Unless Malfoy can prove that this five-year-old fiction incriminates us, then Mr. Griphook and I plan to sue!"

"_You_ altered the Timeline, Malfoy?" Shacklebolt then asked, astonished. "A man of your means? _Why?!_ Do you realize what the sentence _is_ for violating the Timeline?"

"I do, and I did, sir," Draco nodded. "But I do not believe that a crime was committed in my doing so. You see, sir, we believe that the Timeline had _already_ been altered, when those two boys," he then pointed at Albus and Scorpius, "Were murdered at Kings Cross at the end of their First Year! It was an event so wrong, so horribly tragic, that it disrupted the very Cosmos!"

Once again, pandemonium erupted.

"But their First term has just begun? They're right here?" Shacklebolt started, then he sighed again, "Right, time travel. Go on?"

Draco then told them all an incredible story about dust in a deserted manor.

When he was finished, the room was as still as a tomb.

"We can call witnesses to corroborate, sir," Draco then added, giving Urquhart and Griphook a deadly look. He then nodded to Harry, who approached the bench again.

"Prosecution calls Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle," Harry announced. "Who have also both agreed to submit to Veritaserum. I'm sure Professor Urquhart can verify the authenticity of the potion?"

"Objection!" Griphook shouted.

"Overruled," Shacklebolt snapped at him. "Professor?" He then asked, as the bailiff gave Urquhart his wand back.

"It's real," Urquhart admitted, wincing as the two witnesses drank it.

"I cheated on my Herbology and History finals, every year!" Goyle then announced.

"Excellent," Harry commented, handing his place over to Hermione for cross-examination. "And you still got a 'T' for both?"

"So tell me, Zabini, were you involved in a plot to murder Scorpius Malfoy?" Hermione began.

"Yes," Zabini answered.

"And who put you up to it?" Hermione asked. "Is he here?"

"**He** did!" Zabini pointed at Urquhart.

"Why?"

"M-my…my son is ill," Zabini answered. "He needs a very expensive medicine for treatment. Without it, he could die. Miles told me that if Draco got control of _**Slug & Jiggers**_, he'd raise the price so high – because of how we treated him after the War – that I'd never be able to afford it!"

"Then he asked me to help," Goyle added, "And this one time, we put Shrinking Solution in the House Elves laundry potion…"

"And what was the plan for this murder?"

"To blow up the Slytherin car of the Hogwarts Express at the end of Scorpius Malfoy's First Year," Goyle confessed. Once again, the buzzing of the Wizengamot.

"Thank you, Goyle," Hermione interrupted. "So what did this plan of Urquhart's have to do with killing Scorpius, not to mention _my _nephew? Why kill the boys?"

"Albus was just a bonus," Goyle admitted. "I mean, none of us Slytherins were too happy when Potter beat The Dark Lord back then, you know? But…but we didn't kill anyone, though, really, Draco said?"

"Because Draco Malfoy went back and changed history," Hermione countered. "As he has admitted. In the aborted Future, you and Zabini attacked the Hogwarts Express and killed two children – THOSE TWO!" She pointed at Albus and Scorpius.

"Minister, I object!" Urquhart shouted, leaping to his feet. "This is all conjecture, based on the unbelievable story of a man who is no doubt simply trying to save face in light of his dismal past!"

"Sustained, for now," Shacklebolt conceded.

"So Zabini, what were you told, by Urquhart, would in it for you?" Hermione asked.

"He wanted us to kill the boy, because he said that would push Draco over the edge into madness. He'd then give up his bid on the Apothecary, and then Miles would give me anything I needed for my son – free."

"I see. A very Slytherinish thing to do," Hermione admitted. "Any parent might be willing to commit murder to save their own child, I think?"

"Draco was going to murder _us_!" Goyle butted in. "And we were there! There was more than one Draco!" Then his face went paler. "That _was_ you in line, Draco! At Fortescue's! You _were_ in line in front of us, then you walked up behind us to take us into the alley!"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "In fact, I _did_ murder them – in a Future that no longer exists. We had figured that I would then simply cease to exist. However, Hermione was wrong."

"Just as your evidence doesn't exist!" Griphook interrupted.

"And how much money did you stand to lose, Griphook, if Draco Malfoy had – and did – win his bid?" Hermione then asked.

Griphook paled. "A lot."

"Enough to put out a contract on the life of a child?"

"OBJECTION!"

Shacklebolt shook his head, firing off a blast from his wand that sounded like a gavel pounding. "So far, all we have exposed is conspiracy on the part of Miles Urquhart, Zabini, and Goyle. And elicit loan-sharking on the part of Griphook." He turned to Harry. "Unless you can produce some hard evidence, Potter, then all other charges must be dropped."

"Minister, Prosecution would call Miles Urquhart to the stand, please?" Harry asked, holding up another bottle of Veritaserum.

"_This_ is an outrage!" Urquhart snorted.

"Then you have nothing to fear in the truth, do you?" Hermione asked.

Urquhart downed the potion with a trembling hand. Griphook was beginning to sweat.

"Let's give it a moment to soak in, shall we?" Hermione said. "In the meantime, I would like to call Master Albus Severus Potter to the stand."

Albus took the stand, fighting down the urge to confess to crimes of the usual boyhood standards – most of them involving Gran Weasley's kitchen! He failed. "James and me stole the apple pie that one summer when…"

"Thought so," Ron snorted.

"Lovely," Hermione nodded. "Now, Albus, I believe the event that touched off this whole 'sleigh ride', shall we call it, was when you and Master Malfoy arrived at Hogwarts. Strange things began to happen to you, yes?"

"Yes," Albus agreed heartily. "Things kept changing! One day I was in Slytherin with my best friend, and the next day, I was in Gryffindor and he hated me! Then I ended up in Hufflepuff with kids I'd never seen before!"

"And given that the Unspeakables have recently released the technique for analysis of Magical Signatures, and for ordinary matter, in fact, it was discovered that you did not belong … _there_? You were crossing into Parallel Timelines? Such as was the case with one _Heinrich Van der Schnitten, _who was thought mad after a bad trip with a Time-Turner?"

"Yes," Albus agreed. "I thought I _was_ just mad!"

"Stop," Shacklebolt interrupted. "Is there any proof of this new and even wilder theory? And what does the Potter boy have to do with all this? He didn't use the Time-Turner?"

"There is proof, sir," Albus nodded, pulling out the emerald key on the silver chain from around his neck. "I brought this back from another Universe. A _bad_ one," he added with a shiver. In the stands, Scorpius leaned on his father and gripped his hand.

"Thief!" Griphook snarled, which made everyone look at him.

"And if it would please the Wizengamot," Hermione continued, "We shall prove that the Magical Signature of this key is totally inverse from our own."

"Do so," Shacklebolt muttered, as Hermione drew her wand. First she displayed the signature of Shacklebolt's wand. Then she displayed the signature of a bench, and a random Witch from the Wizengamot. She displayed her own. They all matched.

"Every single object in our Universe gives off this Signature," Hermione concluded, pointing to the illusion of a mathematical curve. "It is documented, and verified with Arithmancy, as Professor Vector can attest?" One Wizard on the panel nodded. Then she turned the spell upon Albus' key.

The signature was totally inverse.

The Wizengamot gasped.

"Impossible!" Vector exclaimed.

"This key does _not_ belong in our Universe," Hermione concluded. "Since Draco Malfoy initially went back in Time, in order to prevent the murder of his son and the collateral death of Albus Potter, it was this first change to the Timeline that triggered the Magical Field around Hogwarts to push Albus into other Universes when it detected that he did _not_ belong there. The reason that he did not _belong _there, Minister, is because he was supposed to be – just like his best friend was – _dead_! Having never been confronted by a 'dead boy' before, the Defense Fields of the School had no idea what to do with him. So they tried to get rid of him. Everyone simply thought Albus to be mad, when in fact, the Albus that we all saw was indeed a plethora of Alternate-Albuses from other Universes trading places with him!"

Pandemonium erupted again.

"SILENCE!" Shacklebolt thundered with a Sonorus spell. "Mrs. Weasley, this is getting more and more fantastic by the minute, and I for one, am _not_ amused!"

"Sir," Hermione nodded primly, "Now that we all understand the Magical Signature fact, and we have seen that Albus has a trinket from another Universe, why don't we address one more point that will tie this all together?"

"_Please_ do," Shacklebolt sighed, "Before my headache gets any worse!"

"I believe that the Apothecary business trades in extremely rare compounds, Draco? Things that any good Potions Master would love to have access to?" She then asked, dismissing Albus. "Are you familiar with a substance called Gandalinfium Sulfate?"

"I am, and we do," Draco agreed, "It's an extremely rare crystal, that when cut and polished during a solar eclipse, has the ability to manipulate Time on a small scale. It's used in potions that call for localized acceleration of time in a crisis – as in, one hour of brewing time in seconds. It's also harder than diamond."

"So how does one powder it or cut it, then?"

"Only forges powered by Goblin magic can process it," Draco leered at Griphook. "The same forges that produce Goblin weapons. GSC is frightfully expensive, and I don't even stock it. It would take nearly half of the entire Malfoy fortune to procure enough to make a half-carat jewel, or even to displace…," Draco paused, then looked at Urquhart. "…one person in Time," he added coldly.

"Would you like some water, Professor?" Hermione then asked Urquhart, who was now visibly shaking. Griphook looked ready to be ill.

"I…I…" Urquhart gasped, fighting the Veritaserum.

"Members of the Wizengamot," Hermione then announced, "It is our contention that Miles Urquhart wanted _**Slug & Jiggers**_ – badly, in order to procure GSC. He borrowed heavily in a contract with Griphook, but Draco Malfoy still won the bid. And Mr. Malfoy does not deal in GSC, as stated, which is something of great interest to Goblins as well – who discovered it before Hogwarts was even founded!

"The Goblins are now after Urquhart for their payment, and also for revenge for promises that he could not keep!" She pointed at Urquhart. "Griphook is still angry over how he was treated during the War, by the Malfoys, and the fact that he did not receive the Goblin-made weapon known as the Sword of Godric Gryffindor for his role in the Gringotts' break-in that I, Harry, and Ron pulled off!

"He's also angry about never having been able to find the lost artifacts that his ancestors made for Salazar Slytherin, as well as the fact that the _bejeweled_ Cup of Helga Hufflepuff and the _bejeweled_ Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw were destroyed – by us! All of which, I might add, contain polished jewels made of Gandalinfium, hence their power in destroying Horcruxes as well."

She then pointed at Albus Potter. "Slytherin's key, a powerful Goblin-made object containing even rarer Green Gandalinfium crystals, not red! Explaining why Griphook called Albus a thief!"

"Merlin's baggy _pants_!" Draco gasped, as the Wizengamot erupted again.

"Professor?" Hermione demanded. "Did you do these things, in league with Griphook – for vengeance on the Malfoy family, in hopes that Draco would die of grief when his son was killed – thus leaving the entire Malfoy deposits of Gringotts' to the Goblins?"

"I DID IT!" Urquhart then screamed, leaping up so fast that he knocked a snarling Griphook over.

"TEMPUS HOMINUM REVELLO!" Hermione then drew her wand, firing on Urquhart as he turned to run straight into Harry and Ron as they dived out of the stands to tackle him.

Three magical signatures appeared above their heads.

Two matched – Harry's and Ron's.

One did not.

"Draco," she then added, as the Wizengamot just stared while Draco then entered the field of the spell.

His signature did not match either – but was only very slightly out of phase.

Just like Urquhart's.

"Much like Albus's – or rather, Slytherin's key and Draco Malfoy," Hermione concluded, "Miles Urquhart traveled in Time, crossing a Trans-Dimensional Barrier! To save his own skin from a bad deal with the Goblins, Urquhart stole GSC from them and used it to come back to try and win the bidding war over the Apothecary _again_! He plotted the murder of Scorpius Malfoy, knowing that Draco would likely go mad with grief, and knowing that the Goblins would get all of the Malfoy fortune when all of the heirs were gone! It would also give him access to more GSC, so that he could set his own private Timeline right, as well as try and reclaim the last two artifacts of the Hogwarts Founders for their makers – the Goblins!"

"So that's how these things worked," Scorpius whispered to Albus, "Green Gandalinfium. Good thing we locked up your Grandfather's Time-Turner in the safe again, eh?"

Albus nodded seriously. "Good thing the one already in there merged with it!"

Once Shacklebolt had restored order, and had Urquhart under guard, he turned to Hermione. "How did you ever figure this out, with the entire Timeline altered around you?" He asked, stunned.

"The Room of Requirement, and the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts Library," Hermione shrugged. "I remembered seeing a heading about 'time' in the book **Most Potente Potions** in my Second Year. Harry then went back in Time, and then sent a letter up in Time, to my concurrent Future before it was aborted. The Room of Requirement shielded that letter, giving me the clues I needed. It also shielded _me_," she added. "So I _remember_ the Timeline as it _was_, before Harry and Draco went back to put it all right again. I remember Albus 'being mentally ill', as well as I remembered it when Urquhart got Madame Pomfrey's name wrong at Quidditch tryouts. Apparently, _his _Timeline has Poppy still at Hogwarts."

Several members of the Wizengamot nodded knowingly, making it obvious that more than a few of them had used the Room during their own Hogwarts careers!

"Which probably also explains why Fiendfyre couldn't harm the Room," Draco put in. "GSC is Trans-Dimensional, and so is the Room. Damage would have been repaired at once. Miles, what is Madame Pomfrey's name? The Hogwarts Mediwitch?"

"POPPY!" Urquhart screamed, unable to control himself. "And I had an affair with Pansy Parkinson!"

"Wrong, it's 'Iris'," Albus spoke up.

"Well, there's no accounting for taste, Miles," Draco smirked.

"The Goblins will get you all for this, thieves and liars!" Griphook screamed, as he was seized as well.

"Take them away," Shacklebolt declared, as the Wizengamot concurred. "We'll decide what to do with _them_ later."

But Urquhart apparently wasn't finished. He shoved a guard away, then hit the floor, clutching a small bottle that had appeared in his hand. "You _cannot _stop me now! I'll just redo it all again! I have the potion, and you have no more Time-Turners!" He then pulled the cork, but Harry and Ron were faster.

"STUPEFY!" They both shouted, as both spells hit not Urquhart, but the bottle.

"NO! YOU IDIOTS!" Urquhart screamed, as the bottle exploded, showering him in glowing, phosphorescing potion.

"Get back!" Draco yelled, sniffing the air, "That's a GSC derivative!"

Urquhart stiffened. Then his clothes seemed to enlarge.

"Ohhhhh," Draco gasped, "The stunners! They've altered the potion! It doesn't know what to do!"

"What IS it?" Harry asked, as they all realized that it wasn't Urquhart's clothes getting bigger – Urquhart was getting smaller.

His hair was thickening. His five o'clock shadow began to fade, and his features softened. "No!" He cried out, but in a warbling soprano tone now. He turned to flee, but tripped in shoes several sizes too large.

"He's getting…younger?" Ron breathed.

"Time in a bottle," Draco agreed, "I've read theories on that using GSC, but no one's ever been daft enough to _try_ and brew it!"

"Until now! It was my _last _chance!" The boyish Urquhart whimpered, clutching robes around him that were now far too large.

"What is he, about eight now?" Hermione mused, as Griphook looked on in disgust.

"Eight and falling," Harry nodded, as the toddler before them just sat and cried. "Time in a bottle! It must have cost him a fortune to find enough GSC to make that stuff!"

"Oh, it _did,"_ Griphook sneered. "Serves him right!"

Baby Urquhart was crying, but the adult robes seem to swallow him up.

Then the phosphorescence faded.

Draco cautiously nudged the robes, but the tiny baby was now gone. "Merlin!" Draco muttered, "He got so young that he went back to…not even being a fertilized egg cell? He's gone, Minister!"

Everyone looked away. Harry and Ron both looked ill.

"Take the Goblin away," Shacklebolt said. He then turned to Draco. "What I want to know is how you and Potter went back again? You didn't have the potion, like Urquhart?" Draco shook his head. "Potter?"

"It's unspeakable, sir," Albus and Scorpius both piped up together. From the shadows of an alcove, a man in black cleared his throat. There was a flash of ginger hair as he turned, and then he was gone.

Shacklebolt looked awestruck.

"I see," he left it at that. "As no crime was really committed, _now,_ Mr. Malfoy, it is up to you as to whether to charge Zabini and Goyle with conspiracy? After all, it would appear that they _would have_ done it, had you not intervened?"

"I will _not_ bring charges, sir," Draco sighed. "If anyone can appreciate the loss of his son, sir, it is _I_. And I will not be party to two other boys losing their fathers."

"Excellent," Albus and Scorpius both whispered.

"Which brings us to the next two items, Malfoy," Shacklebolt shook his head. "_Your_ Magical Signature? Where is the 'real' Draco Malfoy?"

"He's here," Draco touched his chest, moving towards the stands to reach for the boys. "And he's here," he touched Albus' head. "But moreso, he's _here_," Draco then put his arm around his son. "I am the one and _only_ Draco Malfoy, now, but I am…" he sighed theatrically, running a hand through his slightly thinning hair, "…five years older than I _should_ be. It would seem that my undoing of the murders – both sets – has put me all back together again!"

"'Murders'?" Shacklebolt asked, "As in two sets?"

"I killed Blaise and Gregory in an aborted Future, to save my son, sir," Draco replied casually, "Then Harry and I, with some help from the Unspeakables," he gave the boys a wink, "Undid all of _that_!"

"Aspirin, please!" Shacklebolt called.

"Sir, if I may?" Hermione put in, as Griphook was led out in irons under heavy guard. "Draco hasn't _really_ committed murder now, has he? I mean, it was Urquhart who touched all of this off, and those Timelines have been erased. So has Urquhart, for that matter."

"Much as I would have tried to blow up the train and kill Scorpius," Zabini put in, "Me too!" Goyle added, "We can't blame Malfoy for wanting to save his own son's life."

"It's a very Slytherinish thing to do," Draco shrugged. "Get them before they get you, if and only if it's good for you! We don't expect Gryffindors to understand it."

"Be that as it may," Shacklebolt continued, waving it off, "There is still the fact that you _did_ alter the Timeline, Malfoy - twice. Altering a pre-altered Timeline is _still_ a crime."

"I…I helped, though, so they tell me?" Harry then spoke up.

"Yes, but _you_ don't remember it because the Future that you came from was erased…so you never _did _go back…or… You know what I MEAN!" Shacklebolt fumbled. "Dammit, DON'T DO IT AGAIN!" He yelled at them both.

Albus and Scorpius just snickered.

Draco met Shacklebolt's gaze, and the two men stared at one another. "You know the penalty for the alteration of Time?" The Minister repeated. "You know our laws? 'You must not be seen?' And you were seen. Twice."

Draco hung his head.

"For the sake of my child…any child…I would do it _again_," Draco confessed. "I have murdered Time _itself_, one could say, and all for the sake of a boy." He then looked at Albus. "I thought it was all _my_ fault that you were crossing into other Universes, and I may well be to blame for part of it – me and my shattered Soul that repaid your love for my son with blackness and murder. Forgive me?"

"Sure, Uncle!" Albus just smiled, smirking at him.

"Draco Malfoy," Kingsley Shacklebolt then declared, "In light of certain mitigating circumstances, the sentence of double-life terms in Azkaban is hereby commuted. I therefore sentence you to twenty years hard labor…"

The room went quiet again.

"…in the position of Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Seeing as how the job just opened up anyway!" Shacklebolt then laughed, and it was rich laughter that was contagious.

"I…erm…I…_accept_?" Draco gasped.

"So ordered," Shacklebolt declared. "Now everybody – GET OUT!" He fired off his gavel spell again.

"Mum's gonna just go mental!" Scorpius warned his father as they all left the building.

"So's Gran Molly," Albus fretted.

"Hey! We could just get your Grandfather's …toy… and go save the pie, Aspie?" Scorpius whispered in Albus's ear.

"**NO**!" Albus exclaimed, "I've had enough Time Travel!"

***

"Oh, bless him," both Unspeakables laughed from a darkened alcove at the far end of the room, once everyone had gone. "Should we tell them?"

"Nahhhhhhhhhh," the other shook his cowled head, buffing his shining green and silver ring on his cloak. "Where's the fun in that? I don't remember telling _me_, do you?"

"Leave it alone, boys," Another man said, flipping his cowl down and running a hand through his ginger hair. "I just hope their memories of all this start to fade soon."

"Right, I don't _ever_ wanna see that alley again," The next man with mouse-brown hair sighed. "With any luck, the boys won't play with Salazar's toy anymore!"

"Don't bet on it!" the man with the ring laughed, "And I believe we have more training to do with you?"

*******

**King's Cross Station,**

Christmas Holidays, ~3 Months Later

"Up here!" Brock Zabini was calling to his friends, his shaggy dreadlocks sticking out from under his knit cap.

"Window seat!" Mason Gamble called, his tiny owl hooting excitedly in its cage.

"Ladies first!" Tommy Nott offered to Rose, brushing snowflakes from the Slytherin crest of his finely tailored traveling cloak.

"Rose, people are going to talk?" Martin Baddock put in, tightening his green and silver scarf against the chill wind.

"Let 'em!" Scorpius laughed, as he and Albus climbed aboard.

Just then, a snowball hit the back of Albus' head.

"Thanks for the flea powder, you sneaky snake!" A grinning boy with golden eyes, sharp teeth, and a red hat yelled.

"You're welcome, Kyne!" Albus laughed in reply. "Happy Christmas, and no full moon!"

"C'mon, Kyne!" Eddie Creevey was yelling, "Let's sit back here with…" he went on and on.

"Seems that didn't change," Albus grinned at Scorpius.

"And you lived with them in Gryffindor?" Scorpius sighed. Albus just shrugged. "Mental, that one, what?"

"Do you really think we should sit in this car?" Rose Weasley of Gryffindor House asked the boys, as they boarded the Hogwarts Express to go home for Christmas.

"I reserved the best car just for us!" Scorpius bowed mockingly. Rose blushed. "Just for us Slytherins – and you!"

"You all just _wait_ until I tell Uncle Ron!" James Potter snapped at his little brother and cousin. "Sitting in the Slytherin car with…with THEM!"

As they were all getting situated in the compartment, Scorpius turned to Albus. "Aspie, I've been wondering, though – why didn't I fall into Parallel Universes like you did?"

"Because I didn't want you to, Sting," Albus replied sincerely.

**THE END…**

**?**

**(See the one-shot story "One of Our Own" – or did this epilogue just erase THAT Timeline?)**

**;-)**


End file.
